Turning Tables: Season One
by Princess Pinky
Summary: What would it have been like if Adrian had been pregnant in the first season, instead of Amy?
1. Falling In Lust

**A/N: **Warning, this chapter (and probably story) contains language and derogatory phrases some people may not be comfortable with.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Falling In Lust**

"Ben!"

"Ben!"

From the corner of his eye, he could make out two figures bustling towards him, one slender with flapping black pigtails and the other taller, a bit chubbier, with a goofy grin on his face. Benjamin Boykewich sighed at the sight of his two best friends, Alice Valko and Henry Miller, and pretended not to hear them, instead opting to shove his head into his locker. He wished he could spend all day there. This was so _not_ what his first day of Freshman year was supposed to be like.

"Ben!" Henry yelped, slapping his hand against Ben's string bean back. "What's wrong with you? You need hearing aids or something?"

"Or something," Alice replied with a knowing look. She clutched her school books to her chest as Ben sheepishly pulled himself from his locker. "What's the matter?" she asked, eyes squinted more than normal, but in her typically monotone fashion.

Henry guffawed. "He's probably still just upset that it's the first day of high school and he hasn't gotten laid."

At the mention of getting laid, Ben's eyes trolled down the hallway, where an exotic looking Latina was lounging against the lockers in a skin tight white shirt, rolling a pair of batons between her limber manicured fingers. Ben swallowed a lump that had magically formed in his throat, the size and weight of an eight ball. The Latina in question was draped in the shadow of a taller boy, muscular with brown hair and a suave way of moving his lips.

"Hello! Earth to Ben!"

Ben blinked as he realized Henry was waving his hand in front of his face and he shrank back, glaring. "What?"

"Why didn't you call us once you got back?" Alice asked, in the voice that told him it was a repeat question.

"I –" Ben hesitated, then shook his head. "I think I caught a bug or something this week," he replied, avoiding Alice's searing eyes. "I didn't want to interrupt your last week in Monterey just so you could hear me hacking on the phone."

Henry resumed his usual grin and seemed to accept his excuse easily enough, but Alice eyed him with stark silence. Much to Ben's relief, she didn't seem to act of whatever suspicions might have been bubbling in her brain. Instead she turned away from him, looking in the general direction where the Latina was still flirting with the hunky brunette. _"Oh."_

"Oh?" Ben asked, suddenly feeling sweat at the back of his neck. "What 'oh'? There's no 'oh!'"

Henry's eyes shifted between his friends, then finally followed Alice's lead. He grunted a little. "She doesn't look like you're type, man."

"She doesn't look like anyone's type," Alice replied with a judgmental frown. "Except for maybe the drummer's, they look like they might be woven from the same cloth."

"How do you know he's a drummer?" Henry asked.

Alice rolled her eyes. "The drumsticks in his back pockets are a pretty good indicator."

"You've been looking at his _back pockets_?"

Alice snorted at Henry's insinuation. "For the record, no. But so what if I was? At least I'm not making a spectacle out of myself." She pulled a tissue from her pocket and stepping into his line of vision, wiping the corner of his mouth with it before shoving the issue into his shirt pocket. "Little drool there, by the way."

"Not my fault," he shrugged shamelessly. "She's hot, what can I say? Right, Ben?" When his backup never came he asked again, accompanied by a helpful nudge, "Ben?"

"Yeah, right, _whatever_."

"Geeze. What's eating you?"

Alice smirked. "I think you're moving in on Ben's territory."

"Territory? Huh?"

"Haven't you noticed?" Alice replied, her eyebrows high and lips curved in amusement. "She's a majorette."

"How do you-"

"Baton."

"Oh." Henry looked over in the Latina's direction again. "That's definitely _not _what I'd been looking at."

"_Obviously."_

Ignoring the verbal jab he continued, "But Ben's 'territory'? Really, Alice?" He gave her his most skeptical of looks. "She's not exactly _in his league_, if you know what I mean."

"And how do you know what's in my league?" Ben suddenly hissed.

Alice held up her hands defensively. "Hey! No need to attack, I'm just making an observation, that's all."

"And what observation would that be?"

"That you're around a whole convention of majorettes for a day and now you have your eyes on the most provocative one in school."

"How would you know what she's like anyway?"

"It's a small town, Ben. Word gets around." She threw another suspicious glance down the hall. "I'd stay away from her, if you know what's good for you. Think with your head, not with your-"

Ben was thankful for the bell cutting into his friend's voice. As much as he loved Alice and Henry, he'd had quite enough of them for one day. "I have to get to class," he sneered, throwing his backpack onto his shoulder and taking off in the opposite direction. From his peripheral vision, he caught Alice and Henry exchanging confused glances, but he didn't bother to turn back. What he was more focused on anyway was the fact that the Latina was no longer with the drummer, but now the drummer was chatting it up with a perky blonde in denim mini skirt and pink sweater. Ben's fist curled as he passed by them.

"Don't forget: the Youth Fellowship Hall! I can give you directions if you need them!"

"I'm sure I can find my way," the drummer replied, a sick smile on his face as the blonde beamed like she'd swallowed a light bulb. "It was nice meeting you, _Grace_."

Ben was so disgusted with the antifreeze sweetness of the way he pronounced her name that he wasn't even paying attention when he bumped straight into a girl attempting to cross in front of him, scattering her books and his backpack both to the ground.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, hiding behind a sheen of lush brown hair.

"Oh God!" Ben yelped. "I'm so sorry, I –"

"–wasn't paying attention!"

Ben nodded and dropped to his knees, gathering her belongings. "Guess I'm just having one of those days."

The brunette smiled. "Yeah." She pushed a wave of hair behind her ear and smiled nervously, her eyes shifting to the corners of their sockets in the direction of the drummer and Grace. "First day jitters."

Ben looked again, but Grace and the drummer were gone. "Yeah." He stood up and offered a hand to the girl, who grabbed his backpack and then his hand gratefully. "Thanks," she said, as they swapped back belongings.

"No problem."

"You, uh, aren't a Sophomore by any chance, are you?"

"No," he said, laughing just a tinge. "I'm just tall. Why?"

"I'm just a bit lost," she admitted nervously. "I missed Orientation because I was at band camp, so I didn't have a chance to locate the rooms of my classes. I was just hoping that maybe…" She shook her head.

Ben narrowed his eyes, taking in her soft features. Her clothes struck him funny: a sort of strange, dark blue silky short sleeve sweater, with multi-colored strips over a multi-colored striped baby doll top. She was like a little rainbow with brown hair and a baby face. She was, he had to admit, kind of _cute_. "Ben," he found himself introducing, before he realized he was even doing so.

"Amy," she smiled.

"Well…" he looked around. "Where's your first class?"

Amy tugged out a schedule from her jeans pocket and handed it to him, pointing a slender finger at the class in question.

"Oh!" Ben grinned and pointed to the stairs. "That way. I have a class just a few doors down from there after lunch. It should be right around the water fountain on that floor, if I remember right."

Amy beamed. "Thanks!"

At that point, the second bell tolled and Ben paled. "Or not. Looks like I just made you late for class."

Amy shook her head. "It's the first day. Maybe they'll be lenient?"

Ben nodded. "Hopefully."

Amy nodded. "Thanks, again. See ya 'round, Ben!"

"Yeah," Ben nodded, smiling a bit as she jogged off towards the stairs. "See ya around."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ben!"

Six hours later, he was almost getting tired of hearing his own name, except this time, it was an familiarly unfamiliar voice. Ben looked up with a smile and saw Amy coming towards him, waving a friendly arm. "Amy! Hey. How was your first day?"

"Good. Pretty good," she nodded. "It got a little easier after the first class, I met a couple people who had the same classes with me later, so…" Amy shrugged. "You?"

Ben nodded. "Like middle school, but worse." The fact that Amy chuckled at that eased his nerves. "So you don't take the bus?" he asked, glancing around.

"My mom's picking me up," she answered, shaking her head. "But the middle school gets out before us, so she's getting my sister first."

Ben nodded. "I'm waiting on my dad."

"_Hi!"_

Before Ben could blink, Grace's sunshiney face was hovering in front of his and Amy's. The irony was that, if it had been a week ago, Ben would have given anything for even the tiniest excuse to talk to Grace Bowman, his crush all throughout middle school, and now he had it and he couldn't give a damn. "Grace, hi-"

"I'm Grace Bowman!" she chirped over Ben's voice while shoving her hand towards him. "Amy," she smiled awkwardly, "I just saw you two over here and wanted to invite you to the Youth Fellowship Hall gym tonight after the football game for a dance. Since the gym's being repaired, I thought it was the least we could do for the school. You can bring whomever you'd like, everyone's invited!"

Amy blushed a bit. "Th-thanks," she squeaked, "but I – I'm, uh, I'm-"

"You don't have to bring a date or anything, it's not _that_ kind of dance," Grace quickly but in. "But," she looked at Ben, "if you want to come _with_ anyone, that's perfectly fine too. Are you-"

"No!"

Grace shrugged. "Well, now you know. I hope to see you there! If you need directions-"

"I've got GPS, but thanks, Grace." Ben flashed his teeth and watched her skip off. He heard Amy exhale in relief and turned to see her pink cheeks. "Social butterfly, isn't she?" he asked, rhetorically.

"Yeah, everything I'm not," Amy muttered.

"'Scuse me?"

"N-n-othing." Amy shook her head, inadvertently hiding her face with her hair. When she pushed her hair back, her cheeks look like they'd been smothered in rouge. "You're not going, are you?"

"Well I-"

"Y-yeah," she stuttered. "Me either. F-forget I asked, it was stupid, I just-"

"Did you_ want_ to go?"

Amy looked down and began to play with the fabric of her baby doll top. "Do you?"

"Are you…_asking_?"

A car horn honked and they both looked up. A redhead was waving in their direction, while a pouty brunette girl with hair much darker and duller than Amy's sat in the front passenger seat. Amy scuffed her shoes together. "That's me," she muttered before sheepishly waving back. She skillfully avoided eye contact until she got into the car and then, right before shutting the door, she caught his eyes and nodded, "_Yeah._ It's Juergens, by the way. Like the lotion, but with a 'u.'"

Somehow, it sounded like a pickup line. "Was it a pickup line?" He'd never been good with things like that, not like _that drummer_. "She doesn't seem like the type to make the first move," he thought out loud. "But then, I never have been a good judge of character." He felt his pulse increase a little. Maybe it was just false hope, but he was willing to take it just the same.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"_God!"_ Adrian Lee, the Latina majorette, gasped, as her lover, the drummer, rolled off her onto the other side of the bed. Her face was awash of pale rose beneath her year round tanned skin and bits of her raven curls stuck to her forehead, cheeks, and shoulders thanks to the dewdrops of sweat that embroidered her body. "I _needed_ that so fucking badly!" With a languid smile, she turned onto her side and propped her head up in her hand, balancing her elbow against her pillow. "Can you do that again, Under…" She licked her lips and allowed her eyes to travel halfway down her bedspread. _"…wood."_

Ricky clicked his tongue haughtily. "How many times can you stand?"

Adrian shook her head against her palm. "I'm sorry we didn't hook up last year," she smirked.

Ricky looked her up and down twice, the second time his eyes lingering on the curves of her chest, concealed only by the edge of the pink and orange sheet. He craned his neck a bit. "You're a better fuck than most of the girls I get with."

"Better?"

"Better," he repeated.

"_Well,"_ Adrian drawled, "it's nice to know I'm a better lay than your experienced hooker. I accept that with pride."

Ricky seemed ready to roll his eyes, but instead opted to throw his legs over the side of the bed and pull on his boxers that were in a heap on the floor.

"Oh, come on now, I thought you said you could go until I couldn't!"

"I need something to eat first. You have got something to eat, right?"

Adrian shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not." When he left, she sat up in bed, holding her sheet to her chest. She glanced about the room and noticed her shimmery angel white bra haphazardly thrown across her lamp. Then she looked to the floor and noticed a shirt, Ricky's, turned inside out. She leaned over and grabbed it, sliding it over her nude form, then slipped from the bed. As she strode towards the door, her stomach growled, and she felt the vibrations in her throat. She opened her mouth to yell at him to get her something too as she got to the end of the hall, when Ricky came barreling around, running right into her. "Hey!"

"We have to go."

"_What?"_

"The dance," Ricky explained in a hurry. "We need to get ready to go to the dance."

"What dance?"

"The one Grace invited us too."

"_Grace!"_ Adrian spat. "You're seriously wanting to go just to flirt up that little virgin? She's a Christian, you know. She's not going to fuck you."

"_We're going."_

"Nobody orders me around!" she barked. "Least of all not in my own home!" Adrian stood considerably shorter than Ricky, but stared him down in the middle of the hallway just the same. Finally, she placed her hand on his chest. "I need to take a shower. You're taking one with me."

"I don't do showers with sluts."

"But you'll go after virgins." She looked down at his crotch. "Got something you're trying to prove?" Adrian watched the veins in Ricky's neck enflame and smirked. "Fine, then. No shower. We've got time for at least another fuck. The smell of sex is better than perfume anyway." She slid her fingers into the elastic of his boxers and yanked him back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind herself.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Your name took me forever to find," Ben confided, leaning in close to Amy to whisper. "Idiot me tried every combination but 'Ju' until the end, when I was about to give up."

Amy giggled, her face a little flushed. "I'm glad you didn't," she smiled. "I," she hesitated, her cheeks glowing brighter. "I usually don't ask guys out. I mean…I never have before. You're the first. Not even for a Sadie Hawkins Dance. But…" She shrugged. "I guess I just…got a little braver over the summer."

Ben flinched at the last thing she said, but he was relieved that Amy didn't seem to notice. "I'm glad I called too," he nodded, pushing thoughts of the summer to the furthest recesses of his mind. "So, have you, uh…been on many dates before?"

Amy swallowed awkwardly. "No." She shook her head. "This is…kind of my first? My first _real_ date."

Ben nodded. "I know the feeling." The car stopped and he looked up, noting his father's eyes in the rearview mirror. Ben cast an irritated smile at them and got out, rounded the car, and opened the door for his date, then offered her a hand, which she took, as she stepped onto the curb.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Amy Juergens." Ben held up his finger. "Let me just go thank my dad." She nodded and he skipped around to the passenger side. "Thanks for the ride and…thanks for agreeing to take the Caddy instead of the limo. I didn't want her to get the wrong impression-"

"You're welcome, Ben," his father, Leo, said in a low, humble voice. "Just be careful, don't do anything your gut tells you that you shouldn't-"

"Dad!" Ben cut in anxiously. "We're at a church. How many bad things could we do?" At his father's disapproving look, he shrank back. "Look, point taken, okay? I'll see you in a few hours. Thanks again!" Ben returned to Amy's side and watched the Cadillac disappear from the church parking lot. He was so close to Amy, he could feel the fabric of her dress brushing against the tips of his fingers. Slowly, without watching, he maneuvered his hand closer to hers, until their fingertips were touching. Finally, he dared to glance at her.

Amy smiled demurely in return, then wove her fingers between his. For a few minutes, they just stood there in the warm night air, hands entwined, smiling at one another. Then music began to snake through the air as someone in the distance opened the Youth Hall doors. "Wanna go dance?"

"Sure," Ben beamed. They turned at one and headed for the entrance, not once breaking their bond.

As the two Freshmen disappeared into the Youth Fellowship Hall, Ricky's engine died in parking space, a mere ten or twenty feet from where Leo had dropped his son off. Adrian shoved the door open with a grunt and her heels clunked against the asphalt. She slammed the door and bent down, giving her reflection one last look in Ricky's passenger side rearview mirror, then she stalked off to the curb, where Ricky was already waiting. "We still have time to ditch this dump," she informed him sexily. "I'm not opposed to screwing in the backseat if that's what you're concerned about."

"I want to go in."

Adrian waved an arm, growling under her breath. "Fine! _Whatever._ Your loss." She thudded her heels against the cement, purposely trailing behind him. He didn't bother to hold the door open for her either, but she caught it in time and stepped inside. Her eyes robotically scanned the crowd, which was pumping with peers and interspersed with cheerleaders and jocks, visible by their bright orange and white uniforms.

"I'll find you in a while," Ricky said, then slipped into the pulsating crowd.

Adrian scowled. The last thing she wanted to do was socialize. Crowds were _not_ her scene. Beds were. Or any place where two people could have sex that didn't involve others standing around to watch. If it wasn't for the fact that she liked dancing and the discipline required to be a majorette, it wouldn't be on the majorette team either, because she sure as hell hated to be around her catty teammates and they had as little respect for her in return. Worse still, she'd probably slept with most of the boys on the football and basketball teams last year, so the pickings were slim, unless she wanted to go after the Freshmen.

While the thought of Freshmen was flitting across her mind, she noticed Ben and Amy on the dance floor. They were laughing and dancing. "If you can call that dancing," she scoffed to herself. The song they were dancing to was coming to an end, the music was fading, but they continued their silly little moves until a slow song began, and Adrian almost laughed at the fear in their eyes as they tried to decide whether they should touch each other or sit it out. She folded her arms, waiting, and then rolled her large eyes when Ben finally fumbled his hands around Amy's waist and she, in turn, stood on her tiptoes to get her gangly arms around his neck.

Averting her eyes from the sickening display of puppy love, she spotted the perky Christian cheerleader, dancing with a hulky jock, one of the few she hadn't blown or laid the previous year. He was, _supposedly_, another _good Christian_ waiting for marriage. Adrian had her doubts. Just then, she spotted Ricky approaching and glared as he cut in. The jock didn't look too happy either. "I could use that to my advantage," she mused. Jealousy was always a good tool to employ. Making up her mind, Adrian began to make her way over to him, only for another girl, a little redhead, to get there first. For a moment they talked and Adrian doubted he would accept the little brat's offer, but then the jock looked back at Ricky and Grace, and proceeded to take the redhead by the hand.

Her fist curled and her manicured nails dug into the meat of her palm. Adrian promptly detoured, heading for the refreshments table. Although she didn't drink, she felt as though she could almost use a spiked punched at this point, but of course being in a _church_, there wouldn't be any. As the music droned on, she inspected the contents of the table: buns, hotdogs, hamburger patties, baked beans, cookies, brownies, and typical red punch. Adrian picked up a brownie and nibbled at it. She preferred fudge to brownies, but it was the only thing chocolate available, except for the chocolate chip cookies, and that just wasn't going to satisfy her.

By the time Adrian had finished her brownie and checked her smile in her compact, the slow song had ended and the crowd was mixing up. She slipped her compact into her back pocket and looked up to find Ben at the other end of the table, filling two plates of food. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed Amy scrunched between two other girls, one of them the redhead who at danced with the jock, and the other an African American girl with a pout on her face. Adrian inched closer, straining to hear as the redhead spoke.

"…and you're right! I can't believe you're right! I just…walked up to him and asked him to dance and he said yes! I can't believe he actually said yes! A Sophomore, saying _yes_ to me!"

"You should try it, Lauren," Amy said, looking at the African American girl. "This whole taking initiative and asking a guy out thing…it's pretty freeing. I mean, it worked for Madison and I, so…I think you should give it a go."

"And then what do I do when he rejects me? No way! I'm not as brave as you two, I prefer to do things the old fashion way and let the guy come to me."

"It's the twenty-first century, Lauren-"

"Oh shut up, Madison! You would be agreeing with me right now if Amy hadn't done it first, so don't act all high and mighty over there. Besides, it's not like you even asked him out, you just asked for a dance, _big_ _difference!_"

Adrian breathed in, held it, and breathed out again. Returning to the end of the refreshments table, she noticed Ben was still there, this time filling plastic cups with the punch ladle. With a smirk, she sashayed over to him and leaned in close to his neck, breathing a saucy, "Hello, Boykewich."

The hairs on the back of Ben's neck stood up and he stiffened, accidentally spilling the punch onto the tablecloth. He knew that voice all too well, the way it pronounced his last name as if there was a _v_ in it: _Boykevich_. He shivered as he looked over his shoulders, his face meeting tat of the Latina's Alice had been harassing him about that morning. "Adrian!" he shuddered. "I – I didn't know you were here –"

"I get that all the time."

"N-no," he stuttered. "Really, I didn't see-"

"Sure, whatever you say," Adrian yawned, looking him up and down with a smirk. "And how've you been…" She looked over her shoulder and, upon seeing that Amy was still caught up with Madison and Lauren, she turned back and placed her hand on Ben's knee, casually moving it up his thigh. "..._Sausage_ Prince."

"Adrian," Ben gulped. "I'm here with someone…" He desperately tried to look around her, but was blocked each time.

Adrian ran her tongue over the edge of her teeth. "What's wrong, Boykewich? You look ready to piss yourself. What's a little chatting between _friends_, hmm?"

"Amy's coming," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Adrian, I have to go!" He abandon the drinks he'd been trying to pour and dashed around her with the plates, meeting Amy before she got to the table.

Adrian scowled as Amy accepted the plate, looking very peaches and cream as she giggled with Ben and then accepted a bite of sugar cookie that he held out to her. "Where the hell is Ricky?" She turned her attention away from Ben and his twig of a date, back to the crowd, and once again saw Grace dancing with Jack. "What the fuck!" she hissed.

"_Let's go."_

Without turning around she responded, "What's the hurry? Grace turn down your advances?"

"I said-"

"I know what you said," she interrupted. "And I'm waiting on an answer. You got blue balls again? Is that it?" She folded her arms, still without turning to him. Then, without warning, she felt him grab her by the shoulders and spin her around, landing a rough kiss on her lips.

"You gonna go or do I need to find someone else?" he demanded.

Adrian roughly grabbed his face, forcing him to look down into her eyes. She slid a sharp nail down the square of his jaw and down his throat until she came to his collarbone. Finally, she hooked it onto the collar of his shirt and tugged him down to her mouth, alternating between licking his lips and nipping at them. "Only if you promise to stay in bed until I'm through with you this time…" She found his crotch and gave it a deadly squeeze that echoed in Ricky's eyes. _"Got it?"_

"Screw you."

"_Exactly!"_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

A month-and-a-half into the new school year, dead center of October, it ended up an usually cool and cloudy night. Ricky had been set to come over, but Adrian had texted him to tell him not to, that she had a test in the morning that she had to study for that she on top of that, she wasn't feeling well anyway. Only half of the story had been true.

The Latina stood in the bathroom in front of the sink, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. She wore a white robe and no makeup, which was highly unusual for her. Her eyes were dull, hair not brushed, and lips abnormally dry if not a bit cracked. Her eyes fell downwards, landing on a small stick in her hand. On the counter beside her sat her cell phone, which suddenly began to ring.

Wordlessly, Adrian flipped the stick over: a pink plus. The stick promptly fell from her loose fingers, clattering into the sink. In a sudden rage, she cast her arm across the countertop, throwing all the contents – a hair brush, a tube of toothpaste, a couple pairs of earrings, tubes of lip gloss, eyeliner, mascara, and her cell phone – either into the sink or onto the floor. When her cell phone hit the floor, the battery popped out and slid across the tile, stopping at the grid of the heater vent.

Adrian slammed the door and slid down it, tucking her knees to her chest. She was pregnant. At sixteen. A pregnant Sophomore. Not the first, certainly not the last, but a disgusting disappointment all the same. It wasn't something she did often, but tonight she made an exception: she buried her face into her knees and began to sob. Just once. Just tonight. Just for being _pregnant_.


	2. You Are My Nothing

**A/N: **The next chapter (or episode) in this little experimental saga. I hope anyone who's been reading so far will continue to do so. Enjoy! (Oh, and I almost forgot, the title of this story was inspired by Nickelback's song, "Someday." Specifically, for those who haven't heard it, "How the hell did we end up like this? Why weren't we able, to see the signs that we missed? And try and turn the tables!")

_**Turning Tables**_

**You Are My Nothing**

The decision was simple, because there was no decision. She would have an abortion. It was as straightforward as that. It was her right, her body, and her future. A baby would_ not_ come between that. Adrian had her entire future laid out in front of her: her mother had worked tirelessly for years to save up for four years of Adrian's post-high school education and Adrian had worked equally as hard to make sure she had the grade to make up for anything above and beyond that. It was not all going to be in vain.

As much as she wanted the wretched mistake rid from her body, she decided to wait a week, until Friday. She wanted the weekend to recuperate from the procedure. It was a medical procedure, after all, and just because it wasn't your typical medical procedure like a wisdom tooth extraction or getting ones tonsils removed, didn't mean that she wouldn't need rest, especially if she happened to fall into that tiny percentage of women where something went wrong. So as much as it pained her to walk around school for another week, pretending that she wasn't carrying half of someone else's mistake inside of her, she decided this way would benefit her best.

On Monday morning, with nothing better to do, Adrian poised herself beside the soda machine, a perfect perch to people watch. In the month-and-a-half since school had started, a good many things had taken place. It happened every year: couples got together, couples broke up, people cheated, and so on and so forth. Within ten minutes of one another, two examples of such passed by, going in opposite directions.

The first was Amy and Ben. She was dressed in a cheery little green and fruity red outfit, which made Adrian think she looked like a watermelon with hair. Amy strolled next to Ben, giggling and chatting as he carried her books and her French Horn. They'd _officially_ become a couple two weeks prior, but they'd been dating since the dance at the Youth Fellowship Hall and it was a regular sight to see him carry her things down every morning. It made Adrian want to vomit.

The second was Grace and the jock, who Adrian had come to know as Jack. The latter was chased the former down the hall: "Please! Please! Please! Grace, come on! Please talk to me!"

Adrian leaned her head against the soda machine. It was a familial pantomime, one that she usually had something to do with. _Usually._ The last month-and-a-half had been a strange one for her. Ever since she'd hooked up with Ricky, she hadn't wanted to screw anyone else. In the back of her mind, she nagged at herself for going soft, but the truth was, he was _good_ and she didn't want to go back to lesser quality sex if she didn't have to. Sure she still flirted and fooled around to keep up appearances – especially when Ricky was still screwing other girls and trying to get under Grace Bowman's skirt – but she suspected that he, too, kept coming back to her for a reason.

So in this instance, with Grace and Jack, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had not been involved in their disastrous downfall. Actually, the problem had stemmed from Amy's little redhead friend, gossipy Madison. Well, Madison _and Ricky_. Jack had accused Grace on multiple occasions of flirting with him, to which she vehemently denied, and obviously he hadn't believed her, because he began flirting with little Madison, which eventually lead to them kissing – who initiated it, Adrian didn't know – and Grace catching them in the middle of it.

Their breakup was amusing for the time being, but would likely prove problematic later on, as Adrian was sure it would only spurn Ricky into upping the ante on his quest to deflower Grant High's resident Virgin Mary. And more and more, Adrian was hating the idea of Ricky being with any other girls. It wasn't because she was developing real feelings for him, though, oh no, "He's just a good fuck. We're fuck buddies, that's all." She looked around, confident in what she was telling herself. It felt more legitimate when she said it out loud, even if she was the only one listening. "The more time he's with dead ends like Grace Bowman, the less time he's in my bed, and that's unacceptable. We're sexually compatible, they aren't."

But then the idea of sexual compatibility brought her back to the problem at hand. Or rather, at stomach. She absently looked down at her skin tight shirt. She was still so thin, not even showing in the slightest. It would stay that way. The guys she bedded weren't father material anyway. Not that she'd bedded that many in recent months anyway, but that was due half to circumstance and half to the fact that Ricky was her current flavor of the month, as it were. And he was the furthest thing from father material that there could possibly be. _If_ he was even the other half of the responsible party. Adrian looked down the hallway again. _Ben._ He was kissing Amy on the cheek by the band room. "Definitely not father material."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

As lunchtime, Adrian was hungry and could feel the rumbling of her stomach, but every time she looked at food all she could imagine was how it would look like as vomit. She was sitting alone, as she usually did, at a small orange outdoor table, picking at the latticework of holes with the tip of her French manicure.

"You look lonely."

Adrian looked up to see Grace hovering over her dressed in her cheerleader uniform, punctuated by an all too peppy smile. "Shouldn't you be sitting over there?" she asked, looking in the direction of the table filled with cheerleaders.

Grace almost frowned. Almost Then regained her composure. Or mark. Same thing, really. "Oh, no!" she replied, high pitched and grating. "Just because I'm a cheerleader doesn't mean I have to sit with them every day. Besides, I think you need someone to sit with today." She slid onto the bench and stared nervously at Adrian's bored face. "Don't you have a lunch?"

"Not hungry."

"It's okay if you don't," she suddenly whispered. "You can share mine, I don't mind." Without waiting for an answer, she shoved her tray closer to Adrian.

"I said, 'not hungry!' What part of that don't you understand?" Adrian sneered, shoving the tray back. "And for the record, I'm not poor and I don't need your pity!"

Grace blanched. "I – I didn't mean –"

"I _know_ what you meant." Adrian stood up, swinging her purse onto her shoulder. "And don't think I don't know that the only reason you came over here is because those gossipy bitches are talking about your breakup with Jack and you thought by coming over here you could distract yourself." She leaned in close to Grace's face. "You're pathetic, you know that? Leave. Me. Alone." When she finished her rant, she realized that several people were staring in her direction. Defiantly, she puffed out her chest. "Screw you all!"

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Grace was shaking, like she might cry. Whether she did or not meant nothing to Adrian. What did, however, was the fact that as she turned to leave, Ricky came rushing by, easing onto the bench beside Grace, where he began to console her, complete with his fantastic arms around her, surreptitiously shooting Adrian nasty looks over Grace's shoulder. A flame cackled in the pit of her stomach.

"It's alright, Grace…"

"Better get a condom ASAP, Blondie, because at the rate you're bawling, he'll be in you in no time."

Grace sniffed. "Why do you have to be so mean, Adrian?"

Adrian scowled. "It comes with maturity."

"Don't pay any attention to her," Ricky soothed, turning Grace's head away from Adrian's. "Just ignore her. You can eat lunch with me today, alright?"

Adrian didn't catch the blonde's response, but assumed it was happy acceptance. She decided she couldn't stand it anymore, the rest of the day just wasn't worth it. She was in no mood for majorette practice anyway, so it was better to just go home. For three minutes she wandered the halls, debating whether or not to get a pass from the counselor or to just ditch. If she ditched, her mother would eventually ask about it, so she opted for the former, which involved a quick detour to Mr. Molina's office. When she arrived, she discovered the someone was already waiting: "Ben?"

Ben startled at her voice. "Adrian!" he yelped. "Uh, hi. What are you doing here?"

"That's my business. You?"

Ben looked down at his shoes. "I was hoping to get a transfer."

"Transfer from what?"

"P.E. to band."

"What?" Adrian hissed. "So you can follow around the Juergens girl like a little puppy dog?"

Suddenly defensive he bit back, "And that's none of _your_ business!"

"Oooh, suck a nerve, huh?" she mocked. "I'm good."

"What do you care anyway?" Ben glared. "You probably don't know a goddamn thing about love. All you want is _sex_."

Adrian shoved her fist into Ben's chest, pinning him to the wall. "I didn't see you complaining, _Boykewich!_" She moved her face dangerously close into his, nearly biting his lower lip as she snapped. "And for the record: you don't know a goddamn thing about me!"

The door beside them opened and a stubby boy with a face full of pimples stumbled out with a yellow slip of paper clutched in his fist. Adrian released her grip of Ben just moments before the counselor's face popped out to spot them. "Ben Boykewich?"

Adrian smiled innocently, flashing all of her teeth. "Right here," she said with an accusatory finger.

Ben smoothed his sweater and nodded. "Hi, Mr. Molina." He extended his hand and shook the counselor's.

"Nice to meet you, Ben. Why don't you come on in…" He looked to Adrian as the latter quickly slipped inside. "And you are?"

"Adrian Lee. I just…I wasn't feeling well today, I wanted to get a pass to go home, but it looks like you're busy, so-"

"You'll need to see the nurse about that," Mr. Molina said. "Sorry I can't be of assistance."

"Thanks." And the door shut. "Screw it! I'm just going home!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The sound of fervent rapping at her door woke her from where she'd fallen asleep on the couch. If it was another Jehovah's Witness, she was going to scream! "I'm coming!" she bellowed, stomping towards while wiping the sleep from her eyes. She barely unlocked it when the door flew open, almost pushing her out of the way. Ricky was all over her before she even realized what was going on and immediately she began to push him off. "What the hell is wrong with you! Stop it!"

"You like this," he whispered, his voice husky. He was already sliding his hands up her shirt.

"I said _stop!_" She untangled herself from his grasp and pushed him away.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I'm not in the mood, but I guess you didn't gather that from the fact that I left school at lunch." Adrian rolled her eyes. "And by the way you're hanging on me, I'd guess that you have once again failed to bed The Virgin."

"Shut up."

"You shut up! You're so transparent."

"And you need me, so don't act like you don't. That's why you're so jealous of Grace. I could have any girl in the school-"

"Then go have them and quit bothering me!"

"There's a reason you keep coming back to me."

"Ha! Now there's a pot calling the kettle black if I ever heard it! _You,_" she said, digging her nail into his chest, "are the one who keeps returning to my bed, _not_ the other way around!"

"That's because you're not worthy enough for my bed."

Adrian felt her breath linger in her throat, burning with the heat of a supernova. She raised her hand, flinging it hard and fast against the side of Ricky's face. "Fuck you!"

"That's why I'm here!" he bellowed, grabbing Adrian around the waist. He brought their lips together and it sizzled, like lava meeting the sea.

Despite the very reason she'd come home that afternoon, Adrian felt herself crumbling into Ricky's needy embrace. She slapped her hand against his face again, this time not intending to hurt him, but to hold him still. The way he kissed her was so unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, so violent and brilliant at the same time. She suddenly felt his hands kneading her ass and compliantly wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to lift her to his waist, where she wrapped her legs around him. A part of her hated him for the way he made her burn for him.

Ricky carried Adrian into her bedroom and pressed her up against the wall, removing her shirt, then carried her to the bed where he dropped her onto the mattress. He began to pull off his shirt while she unzipped his jeans.

"I – hate – you," she told him in between removing individual articles of clothing. Screw being pregnant, she decided she could worry about that on Friday. It was the here and now that was important: Ricky made her feel good and that was all that mattered. Her conscious mind melted away minutes later and all she could focus on was pleasure. The bliss that her body felt when it was connected with Ricky's was unrivaled, as though her blood had been replaced with pure adrenaline.

Adrian knew every curve of his chest, every ravine on his back. She knew how fast – or how slow – he'd go by the way she moaned and she could kick up his speed by scraping her nails down his flesh, like spurring a horse. Ricky was her puppet and she his; that was the way she wanted to keep it. Those were the things she decided when she woke up post-sex and watched him as he slept. Those were all the things that would stop if her secret were to ever get out. She rubbed her hand over her flawless belly. For the first time in a long time, she realized she had something to lose.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Whammt's eamt –img mmmooo?" Henry asked, between bites of his Boykewich Butchers burger. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with his arm before downing a long swig from his Root Beer can. "You've been all high strung ever since lunch. Come to think of it, you've been a little weird ever since school started. Does this have anything to do with that new girlfriend of yours?"

"Her name's Amy," Ben snapped in rely.

"Sor-ry!" Henry replied sarcastically. "It's a valid question, though. She's the only thing that's changed in your life recently." He smirked a little, debating on whether or not to take another bite of his burger. "What?" he chuckled. "Is she holding out on you or something?"

"No!"

"She is, isn't she?" Henry accused, laughing at the defensive look in Ben's eyes. "Man, the only thing you complained about all last year was that you're still a virgin – no matter that Alice and I are too – and now you've got a girlfriend and you still can't get any. That's what's wrong, isn't it?"

"That's not it!" Ben shouted, startling Henry into silence. He looked back and forth, then rose from his bed and closed the door. The way Henry was looking at him told him that he knew he'd made his point, that he was in no mood to be teased and that he had something important to divulge. "I'm going to tell you something," he said slowly, "but I want it to be just between you and me."

Henry nodded. "Sure, yeah," he mumbled.

"I don't even want Alice to know, okay?" At Henry's blank look, Ben hardened his face. _"Promise?"_

Henry offered up his pinky finger for a silly childhood swear to satisfy his friend. "What's wrong? You in trouble or something?"

"I had sex, Henry." As expected, Henry's jaw dropped. "And not with Amy."

"What?"

"Shut up, will ya! My dad's likely to hear!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Henry gulped and shoved his mouth full of hamburger, then waved his hand to hurry his friend on.

"It was before I met Amy. You remember when Bunny caught the flu and couldn't cater the majorette meet a week before school started and my dad dragged me along to help out?"

"Mmm-hmm," the Asian boy nodded, shoving his Root Beer to his lips.

"That's when it happened," Ben paled. "That's where I met her: Adrian."

"The school sl-"

"The one who's with Ricky. Or _with_. Whatever. Yes, _that_ one."

"I can't believe you tapped that!" Henry exploded. "What was it like? How did that even happen?"

Ben placed his hands to the sides of his head. "I don't know," he whimpered, shaking his head. "It was all girls there and damn, they were all so good looking…" He fell back against his pillows and stared at the ceiling. "And she just _picked_ me. I don't know why! I guess because I was the only guy there and she wanted to have sex."

"You lucky bastard!"

"Not lucky!" Ben groaned. "It was horrible!"

"Horrible? How can sex with an incredibly hot majorette who probably most guys in school would kill to do – or have already done – be horrible?"

"Because I had no idea what the hell I was doing."

"But, _come on_, with as much experience as she had, it had to have been _good_, right?"

Ben wriggled against his mattress. "I guess. Although, I have nothing to compare it to."

"But it _felt_ good, right?"

"Yeah…if you don't count how nervous I was and the fact that I, well…" Henry began to snicker, promptly Ben to punch him in the ribs. "Shut up! She said she didn't care, just as long as I was able to give her what she needed."

"You used a condom, right? I mean…no telling how many guys she's been with-"

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?"

Ben hesitated. "I always carry one in my wallet, just in case. But – uh, it _broke_."

"Broke?"

"Yeah, when I was, uh…" He looked away, his face turning the color of a ripe cherry.

"Geeze, man! Did you get tested? How do you know she didn't give you something?"

"No."

"You need to!"

Ben ran his fingers over his hair. "What if she were to get pregnant or something?"

Henry scoffed. "That's not what you need to worry about," he frowned. "A girl like that…she wouldn't let herself get pregnant. And even if she did…she wouldn't tell you about it."

"But my dad's got money," he frowned.

"True," Henry agreed. "But don't you think you would've heard of something by now if that was her plan? Still, I think you need to worry about _you_. Get tested. Especially if, you know, things with you and Amy get more intense."

"I know you're right," Ben groaned and buried his face into his pillow, mumbling something that Henry couldn't make out.

"What?"

"I said: 'I'm an idiot.'"

"Got that right! But an idiot who bagged a smokin' hot one on his first go. You're a stud, Ben."

"No, I just got lucky, that's all. Or I'm cursed."

"Why would you be cursed? I mean, assuming you don't have anything, that is."

"I just wish I'd waited. You probably can't understand this, but I wish I'd waited. I didn't know Adrian, I didn't like Adrian…it was all so impersonal. As much as I wanted to have sex and as good as it felt, I feel like I ruined it somehow. I'm so happy with Amy right now and I just wish that it could've been her instead."

"You'll still have a first time with Amy, assuming you two make it that long."

"Yeah, I know, but it's not the same thing. And speaking of Amy, how do I tell her that?"

"Tell her? Are you crazy? It's none of her business! It's not like you cheated on her or anything and as long as you're clean, it's none of her business, so you don't _have _to tell her anything."

"I guess."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"You could spend the night," Adrian yawned.

"I don't spend the night," Ricky replied, zipping up his jeans.

Adrian rolled into the warm spot he'd vacated on the bed and admired his bare body in the shimmer of the nightlight before he pulled his t-shirt over it. "You're an ass."

"And you're a piece of ass."

Adrian shrugged. "Always with a chip on your shoulder."

"Always with a razor tongue."

"You like my tongue."

"I like your sex."

"You like _me_." She stretched out like a feline in front of a fire and yawned again. "And you'll be back."

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether I find something better."

"You'll be back," she repeated. But this time, she watched him leave her room without answering. The sound of the front door closing made her sick inside. Sure, she'd had guys spend the night in the past, but she'd never _asked_ one to until now. Ricky was different. Ricky was, well, technically Ricky was nothing to her now, but she wanted to change that, and she wanted to change it _bad_.

Ten minutes later, she was dozing off again and a noise niggled her back into the waking world. It sounded like the front door, but that couldn't be. Her mother was on a flight somewhere, probably Denver or Austin or something. She sat up, her heart suddenly racing, and blindly grabbed her anything on her dresser. What her fingers found weren't familiar, long and waxy smooth. When she looked at it, she realized it was a belt. Ricky's. Tossing it to the other side of the bed, she quietly rose from the bed and grabbed her batons that were leaning against the wall.

On tiptoes, Adrian inched out of her bedroom and down the hallway, her ears peeled for the sounds of footsteps or voices or anything suspicious. She was beginning to wonder if she dreamt it all when she heard the floor creek from the other side of the hallway and gasped, pressing herself flat against the wall. The padded sound of crunching carpet came closer and Adrian readied her batons above her head. When a dark figure emerged, she shrieked and cast the batons forward to the sound of a sickening _crack!_

"Fuck! Adrian!"

"Ricky?"

"Goddamnit!" Ricky swore, cradling his arm against his chest as Adrian scrabbled to turn on the light and gain her composure. "What the hell! You attacked me with goddamn batons!"

"I thought you were a burglar!" Adrian inspected his arm and winced upon seeing fresh blood, then looked down and realized one of the batons was broken and the other bent. "You owe me new batons."

"You owe me a new arm!"

"What were you even coming back here for anyway? You belt?"

"What? No!" Ricky glared at her. "I…" he shook his head. "Doesn't matter now anyway, clearly you're not in the mood for company."

"Shut up!" Adrian grabbed him by his good arm and led him into the bathroom. "Sit there," she said, shoving him onto the toilet seat. "Let me help."

"I think you've done enough-"

"_Sit!"_ Adrian barked. She pulled the peroxide, cotton balls, and bandages out of the medicine cabinet and hovered in front of Ricky so he couldn't move. "This is going to hurt."

"I can handle it," he said defiantly.

Adrian ignored his tone and began to blot his wound with peroxide soaked cotton balls until all the blood was washed away, then she applied the bandage. "Sorry, we're out of Neosporin."

"It's fine, I'll put some on when I get home."

When he tried to stand, Adrian blocked him again. "Tell me the real reason you came back."

"To get my belt," he spat.

"Liar."

"How do you know?"

"Just do. Now," she sat down on his lap, holding him to the toilet seat, "why did you come back?"

"I don't know."

Adrian gently took Ricky's arm into her hands. "Does it hurt?" No response. So she kissed the bandage. "What about now?" Her eyes gleamed and she kissed it again. "Now?"

"It's beginning to feel better…"

"Hmm." Adrian kissed the bandage, then kissed up his arm to his shoulder and followed his collarbone to his mouth, where she kissed him, slow and sweet, like maple syrup. "What about now?"

"That feels pretty good."

Adrian nodded, smirking at him as she pressed her body against his chest, holding him to the back of the toilet. "I thought so." She entwined her fingers into his hair.

"I can't stay all night," he warned.

"That's okay," Adrian whispered. "You came back…that's all I needed." She kissed him again.

And again.

And again.


	3. I Feel Beautiful

**A/N: **I'm trying to give each chapter an element of the original episode, but naturally some chapters and situations are going to diverge more than others due to the nature of this story and the way in which Adrian and Amy are similar but also two very distinctly different characters. (And likewise, some things that happened in the show might show up earlier or later in this story than they did in canon, just because the characters have different drives. i.e. Season one Adrian who doesn't know who the father of the baby is being sternly set on abortion very early on, whereas Amy didn't know what to do for several episodes in.) Anyway, onwards and upwards!

_**Turning Tables**_

**I Feel Beautiful**

"You said that already."

"Sorry," Ben blushed. "But it's true, you're beautiful, Amy Juergens."

Then it was Amy's turn to blush. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ben drank her in again: her hair pulled back with two glittery butterfly shaped clips, adorned in a knee length peach colored sleeveless dress, dainty satin ballet flats, and sporting just the right touch of carnation pink lip gloss. He couldn't stop counting his stars.

"Are you just going to stand in the hallway all night?"

Ben peered around Amy to see her younger sister, Ashley, staring at them with her typical poker face. "No, no, we're going." He wrinkled his nose. "You didn't want to come too, did you?"

"On your _date _with my _sister_?" Ashley replied. "I think I'll pass."

"We'll see you later then." He gave a half hearted wave and opened the door for Amy, who smiled as she walked out. On the curb the limo was waiting and Ben hurried to the door in order to open it for her.

"You're such a gentleman."

"I do what I can." He rounded the car and slid in beside her as she was fastening her seatbelt. "So what's your favorite ride?" he asked casually.

"The carousel," Amy replied without blinking. "It's been my favorite ever since I was knee high to a grasshopper, as my Mimsy would say."

"Mimsy?"

"My grandmother," Amy laughed. "Yeah, I used to drive my parents crazy when I was little. It was the only thing I ever wanted to ride. Ashley would get so many, because they'd tell her she couldn't go on the rides she wanted unless someone else went with her and I never wanted to, so it always had to be one of them. Usually my dad. Maybe that's how they got so close?" She shrugged. "What about you?"

"My mom used to take me through the House of Mirrors when I was little. I can't tell you how many times I would smash into them before I finally found my way to the back, where we'd then pose in front of the mirrors and see how fat or skinny or tubby or giant we'd look." He tapped his fingers on his knee. "I'm also a big fan of the Ferris Wheel."

"Really?" Amy asked. "I don't know, I've always kind of been afraid of it. Like it might give out just when I got to the top."

"It won't give out," Ben said, laying his hand on hers. "I won't let it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just have faith, that's all." He smiled. "So what do you say? If I ride the carousel with you, will you ride the Ferris Wheel with me?"

Amy bit her lip. "I guess I could give it a whirl…"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You're going out with _her_?"

"It's just a date, Adrian."

"Yeah, a _date_. You don't do dates, Ricky."

"I dated you."

"We went on three days and the third only happened because you wanted to get in my pants." Adrian placed her hands on her hips. "What's so special about Grace Bowman anyway? Is it the challenge? Is that what makes you hot?"

"I feel bad for her," Ricky drawled. "She just broke up with her boyfriend, she's sad and alone-"

"And vulnerable."

"Look, this isn't up for debate. I'm just taking her out to the carnival to lift her spirits, that's all. I'll take you this weekend."

"I don't want to go this weekend."

"Why?"

"Because," she snapped. "Because…I don't want to go anywhere you've taken _her_."

"Don't be so jealous," Ricky yawned as he pulled on his socks and shoes. "We'll do something this weekend, don't worry."

"Whatever." She poured herself a glass of milk that she didn't really want, but it was something to do to keep from looking at him getting all dressed up to go take out the prissy little blonde. The thought of Ricky getting Grace into bed made her skin crawl. There was no passion between them, just lust and a hurdle that Ricky wanted to test himself against. The images in her mind, combined with the liquid trickle of the milk, suddenly made Adrian's stomach flip-flop. She dropped the carton and raced by Ricky, down the hall, and emptied her stomach into the toilet.

"Adrian!" Footsteps thudded down the hallway behind her and Ricky soon filled the doorway, looking legitimately concerned. "Are you okay?"

Adrian yanked a wad of toilet paper from the roll and wiped her mouth before flushing it along with the vomit down the toilet. "I'm fine," she lied, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her bathrobe. "Just go."

"Are you sick?"

"Obviously. Look, it's probably just a bug or something." She waited to see if another wave would hit her and when it didn't she pulled herself up and began to fix her toothbrush. "I ate a yogurt that was a day or two out of date earlier, that's probably it. Don't worry about me." Judging by his reflection in her mirror, she liked the fact that he seemed hesitant to go.

"If you're alright…"

Adrian spat into the sink. "Fine. I'll be fine." Once he left, she kicked the door shut. "Come Friday afternoon, I'll be fine."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"This is _really_ good!"

Cheesy carnival music was playing all around them, accompanied by the binging sounds of games and screaming kids. Ben was carrying a paper cone of pink cotton candy in one hand and walking beside Amy, who was nibbling on a sausage melt with peppers and onions. "Told you!"

"Here," she said, pushing it as his mouth.

Ben shook his head. "I bought it for you."

"No, come on! I can't let you spend all this money on me without enjoying yourself just a little bit!"

"I am enjoying myself! Just being with you is joyous enough."

Amy lightly pushed his arm. "Come on," she urged.

"If you insist." He bit into the melt, chewed, and licked his lips thoughtfully. Then he tore a wad of cotton candy from the stick and fed it to his girlfriend. "You know, when I started this year, I never suspected it would end up like this."

"Me either." Amy shook her head. "I never saw myself as getting a boyfriend until I was, I dunno! Fifty!"

"Fifty? You're insane!"

"No, really. It's not like I didn't want one, it's just that I'm always so shy and not outgoing enough that I never really thought I would have a boyfriend."

"How'd you get up the courage to ask me out then?"

Amy shrugged. "Just…some things. Over the summer. I grew a tougher skin, I guess you might say."

"If you don't want to tell me, that's okay." Ben shook his head.

"No." Amy grabbed his hand, stopping them in front of a fish bowl game. "Look, there was this guy at band camp during the summer. I thought I liked him and I thought he liked me, but it turns out he was only using me, hoping to get me to have sex with me. Another girl warned me, but I didn't heed it until I was in a really uncomfortable place and then I had two choices: do what he wanted or say no."

"And you said no?"

"For the first time in life I did. I stood up for myself. And you know what, if felt good! And I realized that I was stronger and braver than I thought."

"You're inspiring, Amy Juergens. You know that? I wish I could be more like you."

Amy gently ribbed him. "Shush. You're a wonderful guy, Ben Boykewich, and I'm lucky to have you."

"No,_ I'm_ lucky to have you." He dug into his pocket retrieved a wad of tickets. "Now, how about that carousel?"

Amy tugged Ben's arm enthusiastically and bounced on the balls of her feet on their way towards the carousel.

"Ben! Amy!"

Ben stopped short at the sound of Grace's voice. He knew about her breakup with Jack, it was news all over the school, so he was surprised to see her at the carnival. "Grace, hey. How are you?"

"Good!" she gushed, twirling her hair.

"Are you here with-"

"Ricky!" Grace waved and jumped a bit as the latter walked up behind Amy, who seemed to stiffen at the same. "Isn't he sweet?" she asked, taking a snow cone that he was holding out to her.

"Yeah," Ben muttered under his breath.

"Ricky, this is Ben, Ben, Ricky. And this is Amy." Grace scratched her nose a bit at Amy's introduction. "Our parents go way back."

"Way back," Amy agreed bitterly. "And…we've met."

"You have?"

"Yeah," Ricky replied, trying his best to hide a scowl. "We're both in band."

"Oh, right!" Grace thrust her palm against her head. "Stupid me, I should've known. The drummer and the French Horn player, duh!"

"I take it you're on a date?" Ben asked, raising his eyebrows. "So you're not with Adrian anymore?"

"Adrian and I aren't together," Ricky said quickly. "We're just acquaintances."

Ben scoffed. "Right." Eyeing Amy, he could tell something was not quite right with her, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"Grace, can I talk to you for a minute?" Amy asked quietly. She batted her eyelashes at Ben. "Girl stuff?"

Grace seemed surprised, but nodded enthusiastically. "Do you guys mind?"

Ben smiled awkwardly. "I'll be right here."

"Take all the time you need," Ricky replied in his most charming voice that didn't have Ben fooled for a nanosecond.

Ben eyed Amy and Grace in the distance. From what he could make out, Amy seemed to be talking, but Grace's cheery face was changing the longer Amy's mouth moved. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and wasn't sure if it was all the junk food, standing beside the notorious drummer, the look on Grace's face, or all of the above.

"So you and Amy Juergens, huh?" Ricky's tone was mocking. "Better watch out for her, she's a little flirt, she'll lead you on. Little cockblock."

Ben felt his fist crunch up around the cotton candy cone. He turned to Ricky, just about ready to throw a punch when Grace rushed back up, her face red like Ben had never seen her before. She draped herself over Ricky's arm, blocking Ben's chance for a punch.

"We'll see you later, Ben!" Grace announced, before flouncing off.

Amy pressed her palm to her forehead before looking at Ben's wadded fists and stiff posture. "Ben?"

"That arrogant ass! He doesn't even know you!"

"What?"

"Ricky!" Ben seethed. "The drummer! He – he called you a flirt, a – a…I'm not even going to repeat it. He's a bastard!"

"Ben." Amy laid her hands onto his arm, calming him. "That guy from band camp that I told you about? That was Ricky." She deflated. "That's what I wanted to talk to Grace about, to warn her. I think he's only after her because she's a virgin, like me. But Grace and I…we have some history. A lot of history, actually. We were kind of raised as rivals, because our parents – my dad and her mom – were married before my dad married my mom and her mom married her dad. Then we were born just months apart and, well, there are hard feelings there. Anyway, I tried to warn her, but she took it the wrong way-"

"He's bad news."

"That's about the crux of it. I may not be Grace's friend, but I don't want to see Ricky take advantage of her like he tried to do to me."

"What do you think we should do?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe I could try to talk to her tomorrow?"

Amy frowned. "I dunno, Ben. She might think I put you up to it and I don't want her to get mad at you."

"If she gets mad, then so be it, but she needs to know, Amy."

"Yeah, you're right."

Ben glanced down towards the carousel. "I don't mean to sound insensitive, but…does this mean you don't want to go on the carousel anymore?"

Amy glanced in the direction Grace and Ricky had walked off, then shook her head. "No, it's okay, I still want to go. There's not much we can do at the moment anyway. If Ricky does try to put the moves on her tonight, at least she'll have what I said banging around in her brain and, hopefully, the willpower to say no."

Ben offered his arm and Amy looped hers into his. "I hope she's okay."

"Me too."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ten minutes to nine, there was a telltale knock at her door. Adrian managed to drag herself there, despite the last hour she'd spent hunched over the toilet bowl, and opened it to find the one person she'd expected to on the other side. What surprised her, however, was the brown bag he was holding. "Please don't tell me you brought back leftovers."

"No," Ricky smirked. He stepped inside and peeled open the back, revealing a bottle of Pepto-Bismol and box of soda crackers. "I thought these might make you feel better."

Adrian smiled in spite of herself. "I can't believe you did that."

"Why?"

"Because – you just – _thanks._"

"You're welcome."

Adrian began to shake up the pink bottle, trying not to watch as she did so. "So…how was the carnival?"

"Fine."

"Do anything fun?"

"We went on a couple rides, got snow cones, and left. Like I said, I was just trying to cheer Grace up."

"Uh-huh." The Latina measured out dose of Pepto and swallowed it. Pepto-Bismol was one of the oddest tasting medicines she'd ever had. It was minty and chalky at the same time and tasted like the pink candy hearts in the Valentine's Day candy heart mixes. Or maybe it was that the hearts tasted like Pepto. Either way, it wasn't horrible, but it wasn't great either, so she followed it up by biting into half a soda cracker. "You don't expect me to have sex with you tonight, do you?"

"I think I'll pass on being potentially vomited on, thanks." Ricky nodded to the bag. "I just wanted to drop that off and make sure you were alright. I have an English paper to finish anyway."

"I really appreciate it," Adrian stated sincerely, allowing her guard down for once. She stepped between him and the door. "Thanks."

Ricky studied her for a moment, then it was gone. "It was nothing." He hesitated, then seemed to lean in for a kiss and veered off, kissing her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, maybe. If I don't still look and smell like a vomit bin."

Ricky snorted. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Adrian locked the door and slid down it after he left, hugging her knees to her chest. She eyed the remaining half of the soda cracker between her fingers and shoved it into her mouth. Strange as it seemed, the bag of Pepto and soda crackers had probably been one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her, and Ricky didn't even have a clue.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Don't rock it! Don't rock it!" Amy gripped the safety bar and was leaning as far back into the seat as she could without making the cart itself lean back. When Ben started laughing, her face contorted. "And don't laugh at me!"

"I'm sorry, I can't help it! You're adorable."

"No I'm not, I'm terrified. This is my terrified face! Can't you see the terror here? Stop rocking it!"

"I'm not rocking it! You're rocking it with your fear. And there's also a bit of a breeze up here, if we're lucky, we might even get a gust-"

"Benjamin Boykewich!"

Ben cackled and finally chose that moment to place his hand on Amy's. "Relax. Nothing bad is going to happen, you're just psyching yourself out."

"That's easy for you to say," Amy grumbled, trying in vain not to look down.

"_Amy,"_ Ben spoke softly, but sternly. He peeled her hands away from the safety bar and held them between his. "You're fine. Just focus on me if you don't want to take advantage of the view."

Amy pulled her arms into her frame, looking more stiff than a piece of plywood. "Not working," she whispered through gritted teeth.

"How about this?" Ben asked, suddenly taking her head in his hands and bringing his mouth to hers. It took a second, but he felt her relax, and soon her hands were on his face too. Kissing on the Ferris Wheel had always been a rather romantic idea to him and now that he had a chance to do it, he realized it had been well worth the wait. By the time their lips broke apart, they realized the ride had stopped, and they were at the bottom, waiting in front of the ride operator and a long line of people who were waiting for them to get off.

Amy's face bloomed like a midnight rose as the man pulled back the safety bar to let them out. She tangled her hand into Ben's as they ran down the steps off the ride and then burst into a fit of giggles by the time they were a safe distance away. "Oh my god, did you see their faces! I can't believe they were all watching us!"

"I can. Who _can't_ take their eyes off you?"

Amy threw her head back, laughing so hard tears began to stream from her eyes. "That was crazy! Do we have anymore tickets left?"

"Six," Ben nodded, his eyes twinkling with the carnival lights reflecting in them. "Just enough for one more ride on the carousel. Wanna take a bench and make out this time?"

Amy bit her lip mischievously, eyes glinting even brighter than Ben's. With a high pitched squeal, she pecked his lips and then tugged him along, back towards the carousel.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian pulled her wet hair into a ponytail and draped a towel over her pillow to dry up the excess water as she slept. She reached for the light as she curled up in bed, only for the backlight on her phone to flash as it began to buzz on her dresser. Curiously, she grabbed the cell and flipped it open to find she had one new text message. "From Ricky?"

_You're beautiful, you know that?_


	4. Caught In The Act

**A/N: **This chapter really takes a turn away from the actual episode, since most of it was not relevant to the situations in this story.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Caught In The Act**

"I'm a little busy this morning, Jack, so let's just cut to the chase: what do you want?" Adrian strode through the living room and into the kitchen, where she dropped into a chair at the table and waited for the jock's response.

Jack casually slid into the seat opposite the Latina. "Okay, fine," he agreed. "I know you don't like what's going on with Grace and Ricky and neither do I. I want Grace back and you want Ricky all for yourself." He held up his hand when she opened her mouth and continued: "And don't try to deny it, I know that look in your eyes, it's unadulterated jealousy. So what I'm proposing is very simple: you scratch my back, I scratch yours."

"And by your back you mean your penis?" she asked point blank. "Because newsflash: I don't have one of those, so that just doesn't work for me. And besides, Ricky isn't the jealous type. He just screws and moves on."

"He hasn't moved on from you."

"We have our arrangements," she replied, folding her hands together. "So spit it out: what are you asking here?"

"Sex."

"Sex!" she laughed. "If Grace broke up with you over _a kiss_, what on Earth makes you think having sex with me is going to have her running back to you?"

"But this is different: if we're with each other's people-"

"And that's your first mistake, Pappas. She's not interested in you. _At all. _You have nothing to offer to make her jealous with. And much as I'd like to," she rolled her eyes, "I can't help you." She stood up, signally the end of the conversation. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a big day ahead of me. You can see yourself out."

Jack stood up, but didn't leave. "What if – what if we just had sex then?"

"Just sex?"

"Yeah, you know, between two friends."

"We're not friends."

"We could be."

"No."

"Between two strangers?"

Adrian snorted. "Now you're just embarrassing yourself." She waved in the direction of the front door. _"Go!"_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"So you and Alice, huh?"

"Yep!"

"I always sort of figured," Ben nodded, in between flossing his teeth. "You hooked up at the carnival? I didn't even see you there."

"Oh, we saw _you_. You were too busy making out on the carousel to notice us, though."

Ben saw his cheeks turn a little red in the mirror. "Good right, the carousel." He heard the door shut as he leaned over to throw his floss into the trash and then grabbed his cup to rinse his mouth out.

"So, things look like they're moving along nicely between you and Amy," Henry noted as he sauntered into the bathroom.

Ben nodded his head while swishing a cup full of water around in his mouth. He spat it out and turned on the faucet. "Swimmingly."

"So, have you, uh…_you know_."

Ben took a deep breath. "Going this afternoon," he said casually, as if he were talking about ordering a pizza or doing math homework. "I looked into it online, the results will take a few days, not counting the weekend, so I probably won't know anything until late next week."

Henry nodded understandingly and gave his friend a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Hopefully it's all good."

"Crossing my fingers," Ben said, emphasizing his words by holding up each hand where his middle fingers were crossed over the index fingers.

"When you find out-"

"You'll be the first to know."

"You, uh–" Henry looked back and forth "–don't want me to go with you or anything, do you?"

Ben smirked. "I think that would be a little awkward, don't you?"

Henry wiped his forehead. "Phew. No offense, but thanks!"

"None taken." Ben swept over to his bed and gathered up his backpack. "We pickin' up Alice this morning?"

"Nah, it's 'that time of the month' so-"

Ben held up his hand, wincing. "T-M-I, Henry! T-M-I!"

Henry shrugged and grabbed a bagel slice off Ben's breakfast plate. "I'll meet you down in the limo!"

Ben nodded shoved his school books into his backpack as Henry left, then collapsed onto the bed as soon as his friend was gone. As brave a front as he'd been putting up, the truth was that Henry's concerns had really begun to needle him, and he was terrified of what the results of the tests mind yield. The more he heard about Adrian around school and around town, the more the tests weighed like cinderblocks on his mind, and the more he regretted ever having lost his virginity to her.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Adrian."

The Latina jumped at the sound of her name. "Mom!" Adrian gasped, her eyes widening as she whipped around from digging in the backseat of her car. "I didn't know you were back!"

"My last flight got canceled due to weather, so I just got home maybe ten minutes ago. I thought you'd left already."

"No, just trying to find a school book. I could've sworn I left it back here, but-"

"We need to talk."

Adrian raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I'm going to be late," she said, tapping her wrist as if she had a watch.

"I think it's a little late for that, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

Cindy Lee scratched her eyebrow, then withdrew the arm she'd been holding behind her back, revealing an E.P.T. box.

The blood fell away from Adrian's face, making her look almost on par with a vampire. "You don't understand," she said, starting to shake her head.

"I think I do," Cindy nodded, breathing slowly. "Adrian, I wasn't snooping, I promise, I just decided to take the trash out after I got in and when I opened the lid to the dumpster, this was just sitting there on top." She didn't necessarily look angry, but said, with a touch of sympathetic. "I looked inside, Adrian…And it makes sense. I thought it was off that there was still a brand new box of tampons under the sink. I can only guess you weren't more careful because you figured trash day would've come and gone before I got back."

Adrian's lip quivered, then her eyes began to tear and she shook her head. _"!Lo siento!"_

Cindy embraced her daughter in a firm hug. "It's alright, _Chica_. I'm not judging you, I'm just _here_ for you. Do you want to talk about it?"

Adrian whimpered into her mother's shirt. It was the first time she'd broken down since the night she'd taken the test. Grabbing fistfuls of her mother's blouse, she nodded, and allowed her mother to lead her back into their condo and ease her onto the couch. Adrian attempted to compose herself as Cindy moved into the kitchen, heating something up in the microwave. She waited until her mother returned and sat down beside her, handing her a hot cup of broth, to say anything. "I'm taking care of it."

"And by that you mean…"

"Yes," Adrian nodded. "Today, after school. I've had it planned for a week, so don't try to talk me out of it-"

"Of course I wouldn't, Adrian! It's your choice and yours alone."

Adrian closed her eyes and sipped the broth. "Well, how was I supposed to know that?" she asked rhetorically. "You got pregnant when you were just a year older than I am and you kept me, despite my father being nowhere in sight and your parents hating you for it."

Cindy turned her face away, looking almost guiltily. "I did and I don't regret that for a moment, but I wouldn't expect you to make the same choice."

"I – I appreciate that," Adrian said sincerely, surprised by her mother's acceptance of her decision. "Because I'm not going to. I can't. I just can't do what you did. And I won't sacrifice all I – and you – have worked for. It wouldn't be fair."

"Do you mind if I ask: how did it happen?"

Adrian shrugged. "I'm not sure, exactly. There were two guys." She immediately looked away from her mother to avoid the shamed look she was sure Cindy would have at hearing that. "About a week apart. One was at the majorette meet, the other at the start of school."

"I thought you were on birth control?"

"I forgot to pack my pills. I almost wrote you to have you send them, but I was at an all girls meet, so I didn't. But things with Ben – the first guy – happened completely by accident. I don't even know what I was thinking. He was just there and I was just…having a bad day I guess. And he had a condom, so I figured, why not? _Estúpido._ Plain and simple! And then low and behold, the condom broke."

"And the other boy?"

"Ricky," Adrian sighed. "I resumed taking my pills as soon as I got back, but-"

"Even if you miss one," Cindy nodded.

"Yeah. Well. We used a condom too and it didn't break, but there was one point where it got to full and we didn't realize that it was starting to slip until it was too late. I have no idea how much leaked, but that certainly brought things to a screeching halt. I did get Plan B the next day, but I read up on it that night after Ricky left, and there are women who have gotten pregnant in spite of Plan B. There are threads on pregnancy message boards dedicated to the topic, with post after post of people sharing their stories about getting pregnant in spite of Plan B." She shook her head. "Again, just _fucking stupid!_ I was trying to hold off with him for a while, but, I _really_ liked him. There was just something about him that I've never had with other guys and somehow, I ended up giving in. And now here I am."

"We all do stupid things sometimes," Cindy agreed. "We're only human."

"I never thought you'd be so understanding."

"I've done some pretty stupid things myself, Adrian. I may not understand exactly, but I have a pretty good idea of what you mean. Sometimes we think irrationally and worse _do_ irrationally, and I don't just mean women, but _all_ people, men included. But what's important is what we choose to do about our mistakes, not that we made them in the first place."

"Thanks."

Cindy nodded. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked softly.

Adrian considered it for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I'll be fine, but thank you for asking."

"Of course." Cindy leaned in, giving her daughter another comforting hug. "I love you, Adrian. Always. No matter what you do, I love you and I'm here for you, okay?"

"Okay."

Cindy ran her hand through Adrian's hair, smiling a little. "I remember when I used to brush your hair every day before school. So long and pretty, just like your grandmother's."

Adrian sniffed. "Just like yours."

"Do you want to go to school today, Adrian?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "Will you just brush my hair instead?"

"Of course, _Chica_." Cindy smoothed the top of Adrian's head and rose from her seat, heading for the bathroom.

Adrian reclined in the couch cushions and brushed her palm over her hair, recalling all the times Cindy had brushed her hair as a child. In the far back of her mind, she recalled an image of a little girl – not a real little girl, but one she'd imagined, with features similar to herself – that she and someone she'd loved and lost had dreamed up together. She used to imagine brushing that little girl's hair the same way Cindy had brushed hers. But as quickly as it emerged, Adrian pushed it back down again, because that little girl would was a product of two imaginations, one of whom didn't exist anymore, and thus, neither would that girl.

"I'll call the school in a while," Cindy said, returning with the hairbrush. She pressed it against Adrian's scalp and brought it down in firm strokes.

Adrian closed her eyes. She used to love it when her mother would brush her hair, there was a certain inner warmth that came whenever someone played with her hair that she couldn't quite describe, but it was like cuddling a bunny, and Adrian missed that feeling and relished having it again, even if it was under these circumstances. _"Gracias, Mamá."_

"_Usted es bienvenido niña, bebé."_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

As far as Fridays went, it passed surprisingly uneventfully. With Alice having not been at school, it had worked in Ben's favor to secure an excuse for why the driver didn't need to pick him up after school: he and Henry were catching a movie or two at the discount theater, so they would simply call when they were done, and Ben had even bought Henry a couple movie tickets in case anyone decided to go as far as to ask how they enjoyed the movies and what they were about.

Meanwhile, Ben caught a bus further into town, which almost took him right to the free clinic, and all he needed to do was a few blocks of legwork. Unfortunately, he was terrible at physical education – and he suspected, likely had exercised induced asthma – and was panting by the time he got to the front door. He desperately hoped they had a drinking fountain when he got inside, but there seemed to be no such luck, so he ducked into the bathroom and proceeded to splash his face with water until the flush began to fade away.

Exploding stars had nothing on the way he was feeling and it wasn't just because of all the running. "What if I have something?" He looked up at the ceiling, which was an off-white color and needed repainting. He wasn't particularly religious, but he did_ talk_ to his mother now and then, and not just at her grave. "Hey, Mom," he whispered. "If you can pull any strings for me – where ever you are – I'd really appreciate that right about now." Ben faced the mirror again and found his face to have returned to a decent fleshy color, so he gathered up his courage, and walked back into the waiting room.

It was a lovely shade of pink, which surprised when. When he thought of clinics like this, it wasn't exactly the décor he'd had in mind. "At least it's not an ominous black or something." He approached the counter, eyeing the woman behind it skeptically. "Excuse me, but I need some tests done."

The woman looked up at him with a bored expression, then handed him a clipboard with several pages. "You'll need to fill out your medical history and return it to me when you're done."

"Thanks," Ben mumbled as he took the forms and found an empty seat against the wall. He began to scribble his name down, then looked up again. There was a small child across the room, maybe four or so, sitting beside his mother, who was also filling out forms. "This isn't really the place for kids," he said under his breath, irritated that the boy wouldn't stop staring at him. The longer it wore on, the more frustrated Ben became. Finally, he picked up his backpack and returned to the bathroom to finish filling out the papers.

As the men's bathroom door closed, Adrian walked into the clinic alone. She hadn't eaten anything since her mother's broth that morning and her stomach was rumbling, but at the same time, she almost felt like she could vomit right then and there and maybe never stop. It wasn't the first time she'd been in the clinic, but it was the first time she'd been there for a medical procedure. Somehow it felt more comfortable to call it that, than anything else. She approached the counter cautiously, speaking in a low but firm tone. "I'm here for a procedure."

"What type of procedure?"

The receptionist's monotonous tone didn't help her nerves. "An abortion." It was strange, she'd been so confident about it before, but now she felt herself trying to hide her business in an office where nobody would even bat an eyelash.

"Fill out these forms and bring them back when you're done," the woman said, handing Adrian a clipboard identical to the one she'd given Ben.

"Thanks." Adrian took a seat along the wall and stared down at the forms: name, age, gender, reason for coming, etc… She'd filled countless similar forms out before, but this time, her hand quivered while she did it, leaving shaky streaks in the ink she left on the pages. The first two pages didn't take long and she was almost through reading the last one, a page outlining the privacy policy, when a familiar voice at the reception desk prompted her attention.

"How long is the wait time?"

"About twenty minutes, give or take."

Adrian froze, mid-sentence. Her eyes shifted upwards and her blood ran cold when she saw Ben standing there. She quickly looked down again, hoping to avoid eye contact and him noticing her altogether. But then something began to nag at her: he wasn't a woman, so he clearly wasn't here for the same thing she was, and he had no idea about the pregnancy, so he wasn't there to stop her. "So what _is_ he here for?"

"A-Adrian?"

Startled by his direct address, she dropped her pen, and as she leaned over to get it, her clipboard slipped from her lap too. She snapped up the pen, but as she reached for the clipboard, Ben's bony fingers grabbed it instead.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, fear permeating his words.

"None of your business!" she hissed, just loud and acidic enough for him to hear. She reached for the clipboard, but Ben pulled it out of her grasp.

"Are you kidding me?" he replied, also in a whisper. "If there's something wrong with you, it absolutely _is_ my problem! We had sex, if you forgot!"

"Well then I guess I could demand the same thing of you then, couldn't I, Boykewich?" She grabbed for the clipboard again, but Ben pulled it back. She seethed as the papers that she'd folded back fell forward, revealing the information on the front page.

"I'm here because of you," Ben replied. Then an idea struck him and before Adrian could stop him, he was looking at the top form.

"Ben-"

The clipboard fell again, this time with a clatter. "Adrian-"

"It's none of your business, Ben. Just leave it alone!"

Ben just stood there, staring at her with his mouth half open, and his eyes slightly glazed like Krispy Kreme doughnuts. "You're here for an-"

Adrian slapped her hand to his mouth. "It's _my_ business!"

"Like hell it is!" Ben suddenly shouted, causing everyone in the room to look their way. He grabbed her by the arm with surprising force and pulled her to the doors. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"Nothing to talk about?" Ben shoved her out the door and let it slam behind them. "You're here for an abortion!"

"And?"

"And! And you – you never even said-"

"And what makes you think it has anything at all to do with you?" she accused, folding her arms across her chest.

"Oh, I don't know!" he hollered. "Maybe that the condom burst!"

"And who's fault was that? Keeping it in your wallet, Jesus fucking Chris, Boykewich! Everyone knows-"

"Everyone knows what? Apparently you're so experienced that you knew something I didn't? Then why did you let me use that condom when we had sex in the first place?"

"Maybe I was already pregnant!" Adrian fired back.

Ben opened his mouth, then closed it, having no real comeback for that. It was plausible, sure, but, "I don't believe you."

"You don't have to believe me," she replied. "It's not your choice anyway, it's mine."

"It's takes two, Adrian."

"So? You're not the one carrying the baby for nine months and giving birth. It's _my_ body, I can do what I want!"

"No. No, it's not! Your body isn't in question here: different DNA, different body! If you wanted to chop off your own arm, that would be one thing, but this-"

"Is not your call! You're not the only guy I've screwed!"

Ben winced. "How many others?"

"None of your business." Adrian touched her forehead, exhausted. "And besides, what would it change, anyway? Even if it was yours, would you really want me to keep it? What would you tell your precious little girlfriend? Face it, Boykewich: you don't want to be tied down to a baby for the next eighteen years, you just started high school! And you _definitely_ don't want to be tied to _me_."

Ben recoiled: he hadn't even thought of Amy. And it was a valid point, Amy probably would dump him faster than lightning could strike if he suddenly announced that Adrian Lee was having his baby. _If_ it was his baby. But that certainly left him between a rock and a hard place, because he still felt strongly about the issue of abortion, that it was the murder of an innocent life, and whether it was his baby or not, the idea of Adrian going through with it still tore him up inside.

"You know I'm right," she continued. "So just turn around and leave, Ben. This never happened. I never saw you, you never saw me."

Ben glared. "I still need to get tested," he replied bitterly. "Because of you. Because of _sex_ with _you_. I'm not going anywhere."

Adrian held up her hand. "Fine. Fine! Screw it, go ahead!" She shoved the door open. "Waltz back in there, for all I care. I'll just come back later! I don't want you in the same building with me anyway."

Ben hesitated: it was either him or her. He still had no idea what he wanted to do, let alone should do, but if Adrian was willing to put off the abortion until he wasn't around, then at least it gave him a little time to think. "Okay," he agreed and stepped inside. He waited about ten minutes, then returned to the front doors, but Adrian was gone. When he stepped outside, he also noted that he didn't see her in any vehicles, which seemed like a pretty good indicator that she might have left. Finally he returned to the waiting room with a heavy heart and equally guilty consciousness.

"Benjamin Boykewich?"

"Great," he muttered, returning to the counter.

"The doctor will see you now."

The irony was that doctors were supposed to be able to fix things, but this was one dilemma that had no true fix under any circumstances. At least not unless his doctor could go back in time and somehow he doubted that his doctor just happened to have a TARDIS stashed the back of his or her office.


	5. What Haven't You Done To Me?

**A/N: **Just as an FYI, there was a typo in chapter one which said "September" and should've been "October." That's fixed now, but just in case anyone was keeping track, I don't want everyone to be a month off in the perceived timeline. Also, I just wanted to give a nice shout out to **BasicHBKnomics**. Your enthusiasm over this story makes me really happy and I'm so glad you're enjoying the "Who's the Daddy?" play in this story. Thanks!

_**Turning Tables**_

**What Haven't You Done To Me?**

"I'll kill him! I'm going to fucking kill him!" Adrian was alone in her convertible with the top up, allowing the tears to stream down her face. After leaving the free clinic, she'd taken a coastal drive for a few hours before returning home, but she wasn't ready to face her mother just yet, with the news that she was still pregnant, so she had opted to vent her emotions alone in the parking lot.

All she could think of was how much Ben had no right to tell her what she could and couldn't do with her body, even if the baby was his. Which it might not be. "Could just as easily be Ricky's," she said aloud, ready to punch on the horn until she considered the fact that it might wake her nosy neighbors who already were not fans of her and her mother. And then something struck her: Ricky's. She recalled something she had used against Ben earlier at the clinic, about being tied to her for the next eighteen years. If, by some miracle, the baby was Ricky's, then the same would apply: _Ricky_ would be tied to her for the next eighteen years. Adrian forced her head against the headrest. As dismal as the idea of pregnancy was – pregnancy as a teen statistic in high school – the idea such a bond with Ricky was somewhat appealing.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"She's pregnant, Henry."

"What?"

"Adrian. She's pregnant!" Ben was pacing around his room: he'd start on the left side of his bed, loop around to the right, pass in front of the closed door, move to his desk, slip into the bathroom, slip out of the bathroom to where he'd started, and then rinse and repeat. The whole time, his cell phone was pressed firmly to his ear like a life support system.

"How do you know?" Henry's anxious voice filtered through the speaker.

"When I was at the clinic, I saw her there!"

"Geeze, man! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Like I had time!" Ben snarled. "I wasn't going to tell you with my dad's driver listening! Come on, Henry!" Ben stopped in front of his bathroom door and thudded his forehead against the wood.

"But how do you know she was there because she's pregnant and not because she's got crabs or something?"

"I saw the papers she was filling out," Ben groaned. "Don't ask how, it's a long story and I don't feel like rehashing it, but I did. She was there for an abortion."

There was silence on the line for a moment and Ben was almost sure Henry as hung up, then Henry answered: "Well, I told you she wasn't the type of girl to let herself be pregnant. Not that I'm saying that's a good choice or anything that is, but you are a Freshman in high school who had a one night stand with a girl you don't even know, so…"

"She didn't get it."

"What?"

"She didn't go through with it. She didn't have the abortion! How more clear can I be?"

"Why not?"

"I – I stopped her."

"You _what?_"

"It was a kneejerk reaction! I didn't mean to even know what she was there for, I was just scared to see her there and I…kinda got all over her case." He struck his head against the door again. "It was an accident."

"You have got to quit having those," Henry's voice groaned.

"What should I do?" Ben asked, his voice miniscule and desperate, like the whimper of a newborn pup.

"Nothing."

Ben began to pace again. "Excuse me? Adrian's pregnant and I'm suppose to do _nothing_?"

"Let Adrian do what she's gonna do and just stay out of her business."

"I've made it my business."

"No you haven't. You've probably just pissed her off. I mean, it's not like she suddenly changed her mind about having the baby, did she?"

"She just stormed off."

"Alright then. See? I was right, she's just mad. So don't do anything, don't get in her way again, just let her do what she wants. Unless she seeks you out."

"And if she seeks me out?"

"Then I've got no clue."

Ben groaned and fell back onto his bed. "Goodbye, Henry." He tossed his phone onto his pillow and curled into the fetal position. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

The door creaked. "I'll say."

Ben flash froze at the sound of his father's voice. "Dad-"

"I overheard your conversation with Henry, son."

Ben sat up so fast he looked possessed. "You mean you were _eavesdropping_!"

"I merely came up here to ask you how the movies were and I overheard you talking about a girl being pregnant," Leo refuted. "And while I am willing to grant you your privacy, you're still my underage son and this is still my house, so I have every right to 'eavesdrop' if I see fit! And hearing words like 'pregnant' and 'abortion' coming out of my son's mouth – my son who has only just been dating his first girlfriend for a little over a month – is certainly cause for my concern!"

"Amy's not pregnant!"

"Then who is?" Leo demanded. "And what has she got to do with _you_?" He folded his arms. "And why were you at a free clinic in the first place?"

Ben folded up his arms. "I'm sorry, dad, but this is none of your business."

Leo seemed to process those words for a moment, then shook his head. "Well I'm sorry you feel that way, because I'm only trying to help." He rounded his son's bed and snatched up his cell phone. "I'll take this, then. And except for school, you can expect that the only room you'll be staying in is this one, until you can understand that you and all of your affairs until you are eighteen _are_ my business." Leo turned to walk out, then paused and picked up Ben's laptop bag too.

"Hey!" Ben yelped. "I need that for school!"

"Then I'll return it when you can show me your assignments where you need Internet resources and I'll sit in here with you while you do them." Leo didn't wait for Ben to respond before leaving.

When the door shut, Ben thrust his fists into his pillow in a fit of frustration. If the disappointment in his father's eyes when he asked Ben who was pregnant was anything to go by, Ben didn't know how he could live with the disappointment that would fill them if he told his father the rest of the truth.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian's fingertips pounded against the keys of her cell phone: _You wanna meet up?_ She hovered her thumb over the Send button, debating whether or not she felt well enough to actually follow through if Ricky replied back. She was going to stave off going home for as long as possible. Biting the tip of her tongue, she punched the button and her phone replied by informing her that her text had been sent. Anxiously, Adrian dropped the phone into her lap and reclined her seat, staring at the roof of her convertible.

Verging on ten minutes later, the cell vibrated against Adrian's thigh and she grabbed it without sitting up. Hands shaking, she opened her text message file and Ricky's response appeared on screen: _Can't. Going 2 the football game._

Adrian scowled. _Football? You don't even like football, you like baseball._ She clicked her tongue, wondering if she should add anything else. Or delete the last three words. Thirty seconds later, she sent it as it was.

Three minutes later: _Grace is cheering._

_And when Little Miss Goody Two Shoes calls, you have to answer?_ Adrian's fingers hurt from the rush of typing in such a short, harsh amount of time. The thought of using text speak crossed her mind, but being as good as English as she was, it was one of the few things she didn't like taking short cuts with. She sent it, and as an afterthought, sent an addendum: _Never mind. I already know the answer to that._

_Don't B like that. Jack's been bothering her, she asked me 2 come 2 keep him away._

She rolled her eyes dramatically. _And I'm sure seeing her in her tight little cheer uniform had NOTHING to do with it!_ She pressed the Send button again and, rather than waiting for Ricky's response, she turned off her phone and plugged her key into the ignition. Adrian wasn't sure where she was going yet, but she needed to get away. Far away.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Bright and early Saturday morning, Ben woke to the incline of his mattress and realized his father was waiting for him on the opposite side of the bed. "What?" he asked, his vision blurry as he rolled over. His dad was the last person he wanted to see this weekend.

Leo held up Ben's cell phone. "I looked at your call history last night," he spoke calmly. "I just got back from the Millers'; had a nice little talk with Henry this morning."

Ben felt the heat rush to his face like a sunburn. "I can't believe Henry told you!"

"I explained to him that although I care about him a great deal, I didn't think it would be a good idea for him to come over again until the matter with you was taken care of and if he didn't want to help in that endeavor, that was his choice to make. So after speaking with his parents, he decided to tell me what he knew."

"And what was that?" Ben demanded, his voice as rough as sandpaper.

"He told me about the free clinic. And about Adrian."

Ben shook his head. "That's the last time I'm ever telling Henry anything important ever again!"

Leo bent over and retrieved a massive phone book from the floor, which he dropped with a flopping thud onto Ben's bed. A small bookmark was sticking of out it, somewhere in the middle, and the older man opened it up to that point. Two pages: _Leach – Lee_ and _Lee – Leggett_. Leo tapped the first name, highlighted in yellow marker: _Lee, A._

"This is ridiculous! She might not even be listed! She might not even have a house phone for crying out loud!"

"She might not," Leo agreed. "But this is where we'll start and if we don't find her this way, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Why are you doing this?" Ben screamed. "It's not fair!"

"_Benjamin!"_ Leo spoke sternly. "When a man gets someone pregnant, they are responsible. _You_ are responsible!"

"She was going to get an abortion for a reason!"

"And are you telling me you're okay with that?" Leo crossed his arms in the face of Ben's guilty silence. "And even if you are," he continued, "it's still your responsibility to take care of any expenses Adrian may incur until and for such a procedure. And if she were to choose not to have the procedure for any reason, then you remain responsible throughout the pregnancy and whatever may or may not come after it."

Ben lifted his hands to his face, covering it completely and shaking his head into them. "It was just a stupid mistake," he mumbled into the crack between his palms.

"Be that as it may, you still made a choice, son. Have you stopped to think that maybe if Adrian had the support she deserves, she wouldn't have been looking into abortion in the first place?"

"The support she deserves? She was the one who seduced me!"

"Did she assault you? Did she drug you?"

"No, but-"

"Then you still could've said no."

"There's such a thing as _pressure_, Dad. And believe it or not, a girl can pressure a guy."

"I don't disagree with you, but still, what's done is done and you still had sex. Now there are three lives tied up in it and you have to deal with those consequences before you can move forward." He pointed to Ben's cell. "So start dialing."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The birds were chirping and there was a breezy draft blowing across the rooftop when Adrian opened her eyes. The sky was a brilliant shade of _azul_, polka dotted with clouds like wads of stuffing from a teddy bear and dripping with the last rainbow sherbet rays of the sunrise. It served as a stark reminder of the way her childhood was disappearing into the past.

Adrian shivered and rolled over. She was in the fetal position, covered only by a leather jacket she'd had in the backseat of her convertible. Certainly not a sleeping bag or blanket or even a pillow. Her neck felt stiff, not unlike a piece of licorice that had been left open to the air all night, and her limbs ached when she rose. Nothing felt like it should; like it used to.

The rooftop looked smaller. She hadn't been there in over a year, since the summer before her Freshman year of high school. It was the building she'd, more or less, grown up in, where she'd spent seven years living next to a boy she'd loved. _"Antonio."_ As the name fell off her lips, Adrian pressed her hand to her chest, her heart. Her eyes held the spot where she'd slept. It was the same place she'd lost her virginity when she was fifteen, in pair of sleeping bags, to her very best friend.

"I always thought we'd get married," she whispered to the wind. "I always thought that you'd be mine forever and that when I found myself carrying a child, it would be yours." She looked up, eyes drowning like a child lost in the ocean. "Can you hear me, Antonio? Where ever you are right now: can you hear me? I love you. I_ still_ love you!" Adrian dropped to her knees, skinning them against the cement roof. Tears fell like rain, splashing against the cement, forming a maze of irregularly shaped dark gray spots.

"What do I do? You were supposed to be The One! And now you're gone and I'm still here and I'm stuck with someone else's baby and I don't even know who's. I don't want this. None of it. I'd give it all back in an instant if I could have you back. Even for just a minute. For a second! I want _you!_ I've always wanted you. Help me. _Por favor, ayúdame._"

A half an hour later, when it seemed she had no more tears left to cry and she'd drawn herself up into a compact ball on the roof of her old apartment building, Adrian finally reached into her pocket and retrieved her cell phone. It was still off. She turned it on and waited, staring at her reflection in the LCD screen as it booted up. Her skin felt tight and hurt when she blinked and her puffy face looked no better than it felt. A moment after the cell phone's background appeared, it began to vibrate in her palm, alerting its owner of nine new messages.

Three were from Ricky, two from Friday and one from Saturday. The first: _It's not like that, we're just friends._ The second: _Maybe we could hang out 2morrow._ And the third: _What's ^?_ _Wanna get 2gether 2night?_

Five were from her mother: _It's getting late, where are you?_ Dated an hour after it: _Adrian, are you okay?_ Twenty minutes later: _Adrian, please call or text me. I'm really worried about you!_ Then another hour later, two back-to-back: _Adrian, did something go wrong with the procedure? Are you OK? I'm really worried about you!_ And finally: _Chica, I love you. Please just let me know that you're alright, I'm in a tailspin._

And the final one was unimportant, some boy she'd hooked up with a few times before she went to the majorette retreat over the summer who had broken up with his girlfriend and wanted a night with no strings attached. Adrian quickly deleted the latter and typed up a very simple _I'm fine_ and sent it to her mother. Then she returned to her and Ricky's chat. His last message had only come in a half an hour before she woke up. _What are you doing now?_

His reply came more quickly than she'd anticipated: _English essay._

_I like English._

_I don't need help._

She hated that he always had to play games. _Didn't say you did. Like and need are two different things, look 'em up._

_U didn't text me back last night._

_I was busy. Besides, what was there to reply to anyway? You were 'protecting' Grace and I was busy. We were both busy._

_Are we back 2 that again?_

_Back to what?_

_Grace._

Adrian shook her head. _Sorry I replied at all. Just finish you're fucking essay._

_Don't B that way! I can get away in a couple hours, OK? Is that good enough for U?_

_Where? My mom's home; got back early. Your house?_

_No._ There was a pause in between his texts. _Dairy Shack._

The last thing Adrian wanted to do was eat, but she agreed anyway, because she didn't know what else to do.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hello?"

"Hi," Ben replied somberly. His cell phone was on his bed, on the speaker phone feature. "Is Adrian available?"

"She's not here right now…"

Ben's face blanched. It was the first time he'd gotten a hold of a residence that had an Adrian Lee.

"Who is this?"

"Uh…" Ben looked at his father, who nodded. "A friend," he lied. "B-Ben."

"Ben?" The woman's voice on the other end of the line was suddenly high and suspicious. "She's not here right now, I don't know when she'll be back." Then the line was dead.

Leo extracted a highlight from his shirt pocket and highlighted the name. "There's no address, so we'll have to try back again later. But until then, keep calling until we finish the list."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Not a half an hour later, Adrian slipped into her mother's number three condo through the front door and headed straight for the bathroom, only to be intercepted halfway there. Her stomach fell as Cindy stared her down.

"Where have you been?"

"Out."

"You had me worried sick!"

"I know!" Adrian snapped back. "And I'm sorry, but I needed some time alone."

Cindy's face softened. "Are you alright?"

"I told you, I'm fine. I just want a shower, that's all."

Cindy slowly nodded and stepped aside, allowing Adrian a clear path to the bathroom. As she passed the elder woman asked, "How did it go?"

Adrian held her breath, her mind racing to figure out what to say. "How do you think it went?" she finally asked, her voice saturated with sarcasm.

Cindy raked her fingers through a wave of her hair. "Ricky and _Ben_," she said. "Those were the boys you said you thought were responsible?"

Adrian froze. "Why?"

"Just curious," Cindy replied quickly. "And the one, Ben, he was just a one night stand? I mean, you don't expect to have any future relationship with him, do you?"

"_No._ Of course not!" She rounded on her mother. "Why are you drilling me all of the sudden?"

"I'm not! I'm just…just trying to understand everything. I just want what's _best_ for you, that's all." Cindy quickly waved her hand towards the bathroom. "Go take your shower. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It doesn't matter now anyway."

"You're right," Adrian affirmed. _"It doesn't."_ The teenager fled into the bathroom and promptly slammed and locked the door. Without bothering to take her clothes off, she climbed into the shower, pulled the curtains shut, and turned on the water – cold – and turned up at the bottom of the tub beneath the spray of the freezing droplets, rocking bath and forth as the water soaked her.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

_Hey, are you okay? You haven't text or called me. I was wondering if you wanted to do something this weekend?_ Ben finished scribbling the message onto a lined piece of notebook paper. It had come in while his father had been making him call all the Lees in the phonebook and his phone wouldn't stop beeping in his ear to alert him to that fact, so Leo had agreed to let him read it, but not respond to it. Now he couldn't get it out of his head. Along with other things.

If his father kept this up about Adrian and the baby – a baby which, by Adrian's own admission, might not even be his – he would eventually have to tell Amy. Or, given the small, gossipy town in which they lived, it would get back to her anyway. It would be worse if the latter occurred. But the thought of telling her the truth was even more gut wrenching than admitting it to his father.

Ben stood up from his bed and plopped himself into his chair, situated by the window. He'd been in his room for hours now and it was driving him stir crazy without his phone or his laptop, just his school books to keep him company, and he'd already finished all of his homework in record breaking time. Now all that he had to keep himself occupied were his pen, paper, and the window. "I could write a snail mail," he mused out loud. "That is, if I'm _allowed_ to send mail." Not that it would go anywhere on a Sunday anyway, even if he could manage to get it down to the mailbox.

The fifteen-year-old lifted his eyes to the window, staring between the wooden blinds. Slivers of moonlight slipped between the cracks like an aroma under a door. The night was starless, so the moon – just a crescent of moon – stood out against the decisive blackness. It almost felt like it was reaching out to him, stroking his face like his mother used to when he needed someone to comfort him. He turned the page in his notebook and began to write.

_Dear Amy Juergens:_

_Ben Boykewich here. I'm thinking about the first day I saw you, when we bumped into each other on the first day of school. You made me think of a rainbow. You were a rainbow that day. That was almost two months ago. So much has happened between then and now. Is it strange to say that it seems like a million years ago? I'm so grateful for running into you, though. You've been the best thing to happen to me this year and I just want you to know that, from the bottom of my heart. I adore you so much! You know, tonight I'm looking at the moon and wishing I could escape to it. Wishing I could escape to it with you, where our footsteps would be as weightless as your laugh. I'd like to think that maybe you're staring at the moon too; both of us, where ever we are, staring at the same place. It's like being together in spirit, don't you think? Or is that completely ridiculous? All I know is that I'm missing you right now and I'm wishing I could be by your side, holding your hand and watching your smile and bathing in your laughter. I have to get to bed, but know that tonight – and every night – I stare at the moon and think of you._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Ben Boykewich_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian pulled into the parking lot at the Dairy Shack. She was a little early, but that was okay, she needed the time by herself. Despite that there was parking available near the front entrance, she parked off to the back. The top of her convertible was down, so she reclined her seat and piled her hands into her lap, staring up at the sky.

The night she'd lost her virginity to Antonio, they'd stared up at the glorious night together. It was prettier then than it was tonight. "Isn't everything?" she laughed ironically. There were no stars, no clouds, just the moon, and it wasn't even full, just a fleck of itself, like her. She felt her throat close up, but swallowed the emotions down. She'd been too emotional lately. "It's too soon to claim hormones, isn't it?" She didn't want it to be hormones anyway. She didn't want to think that this baby – fetus, embryo – was somehow affecting her, even if that was the truth.

When she heard another car pull into the parking lot, she immediately sat up, looking for Ricky's. But the car wasn't his, it wasn't even familiar. Nevertheless, she watched it pull up to the front of the Dairy Shack and kill its motor. Seconds later, all four doors opened and four people poured out: from the driver's side was a tall, relatively handsome African-American boy. She didn't know his name, but she recognized him as being in her year and someone from the football team, though not someone she'd slept with. From the back front passenger door Lauren, Amy's friend, got out, and Adrian assumed that it was likely she was related to the boy who'd driven them there. So it was unsurprising when Amy and Madison got out of the back passenger doors, left and right sides respectively.

Adrian watched Amy curiously. While the others grouped together, chattering and gesturing their way into the building, Amy hung back by the car. She retrieved her cell phone and seemed disappointed as she stared at it, then she seemed to be dialing. Or texting. Whatever the case, it lasted maybe a minute or two, then she dropped her cell back into her purse and leaned against the car door, staring up at the moon. For a very brief flash, Adrian felt like she could relate. Then the door to the Dairy Shack opened and Madison skipped out, calling and waving impatiently to Amy.

"What are you doing? We're ordering now, are you coming or not?"

"Sorry, I just – I had something to do. Sorry!" Amy scurried onto the sidewalk and slipped in past Madison, who was right on her tails.

Adrian dropped back into her seat and sighed. As gossipy and annoying as Amy's little _friends_ were, at least she could say that she had them. Adrian, on the other hand, had none. Not since Antonio, her only true friend. She could never have asked for anything or anyone better. It didn't seem fair to try and get another friend, because nobody would ever be able to measure up to those standards, so it was best to just remain as she was.

She glanced at the clock on her dash. Ricky was officially two minutes late. "Figures." She closed her eyes, only for her ears to be met with the sound of another vehicle. She sat up again and this time, it was Ricky's car pulling into the parking lot. She waited until he'd parked, to the left of the car Amy and her friends had gotten out of, and then grabbed her purse and got out of the car. "Ricky!"

Ricky spun around. "What are you doing parked all the way over there?"

Adrian shrugged as she approached him. "They were full when I got here," she lied. "I didn't feel like wasting the gas to move it ten feet." She brushed her hair over her shoulder and looked him up and down. "Finish your essay?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "You look nice."

It was a small thing, but it made her smile, even if only for a moment. "Thanks. So do you." They walked up to the door and Ricky walked in first, but held out his arm to keep it open. It wasn't exactly chivalry, but it was something, so she stepped inside and gave him another smile that she wasn't sure if he understood or not.

"So," he asked, stepping up to the counter. "What do you want?"

Adrian shrugged and turned her head away from the menu board, glancing back at the windows. "That's a good question," she sighed. "I'm still trying to figure that out."


	6. Trust For Sale

**A/N: **This one's a bit shorter than usual, sorry about that! Unfortunately I've had some homework get in the way, but hopefully it still satisfies your needs.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Trust For Sale**

Adrian was on her knees in the one way she never thought she'd be: hunched over the girls' bathroom toilet, emptying into it the contents of her morning chocolate protein shake. Although she'd tried to tuck her hair into the back of her shirt before vomiting, some clumps had broken free and her slicked with slimy brown upchuck, which smelt fouler than a dump in summer at midday.

"Oh god!" she whispered, when there was nothing else left for her to expel. It had taken a full twenty minutes of her time and she'd heard the bell ring, signaling the end of class and the start of the passing period. Adrian snagged a wad of toilet paper, wiped her mouth, and tossed it into the basin before yanking the lever down and then propping herself up against the side of the dirty bathroom stall. "Is this what dying feels like?"

The toilet gurgled and swished, swirling away the contents with a final growling belch. The noise hit Adrian's ears and her stomach churned again. "Oh no!" She threw herself over the edge of the toilet again, but there was nothing left for her to throw up, now she was just drive heaving, which somehow seemed worse than the actual vomiting.

"Are you okay in there?"

Adrian's screwed up her face in spite of the heaves. She hadn't heard the door open, but of course, of all the people to come in, it had to be that pesky Christian cheerleader. She tried to ignore Grace's voice in the hopes that she would go away.

"Hello? Are you alright?"

Adrian grit her teeth. "I'm fine! Go away!"

"Adrian?"

The Latina could see Grace's ballet flats at the foot of her stall. "Leave me alone!"

"You sound really ill, are you sure-"

"_Leave!"_

There was silence on the cheerleader's end, but her feet didn't move. "Look, I know you don't like me, but the Lord says to turn the other cheek and-"

"Fuck off! You're not making me any better, especially by proselytizing to me in the goddamn bathroom stall!"

"I forgive you," Grace continued as if she hadn't just been told off. "And while I know that you're upset now, I'm not going to go anywhere until I know that you're okay." Grace's feet inched forward in a nervous, shuffling manner. "Ricky mentioned you weren't feeling well last week. He said it was some kind of food poisoning or something. Has it gotten worse? It seems like a long time to have food poisoning. Are you sure it's food poisoning-"

Adrian pulled herself up and flung open the door, growling at Grace with all the fury of an enraged bulldog. "I'm fine, okay? _See?_" She struck a mock pose in front of the blonde and then shoved by her to the sink, where she splashed her mouth with water and then dampened some paper towels to wipe out her vomit tainted strands of hair.

Grace placed the back of her hand under her nose, attempting to discreetly hide the fact that the stench of vomit was getting to her. She hopped a little, appearing as though she needed to pee; likely the reason she'd come to the bathroom in the first place. "O-okay," she agreed, nodding uncertainly. "Well, if you're sure-"

"I'm sure."

Grace nodded and looked up as the late bell rang. She winced. "I'm sorry," she said. "I have to go-"

"I'm not." Adrian glared at Grace's reflection as she headed for the door and added as she left, "Don't wet yourself on the way!" When Grace was good and gone, she leaned forward, resting her head against the cold glass of the dirty mirror. As unhelpful and grating as Grace was, there was one positive that had come out of the conversation: "So Ricky's been thinking about me." She stared at her face in the mirror. "Enough to talk about me while he's been on a date with Grace, anyway." The thought alone produced a smile, then her eyes trailed to her reflection's belly.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Molina?" Ben asked, poking his head into the counselor's office.

"Ben, good!" Mr. Molina rose from his desk and offered his hand to shake the teenager's. "I wanted to let you know that I was able to get your transfer request from P.E. to band approved."

"Really?"

The counselor nodded. "Normally we don't approve requests this late in the game, but I managed to pull a few string because you'd mentioned…" He looked Ben up and down with a sympathetic frown. "You'd mentioned your suspicions about your potential exercise induced asthma. Although I'd highly recommend that you get that officially diagnosed, lest there be any problems in the future."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Molina!" Ben shook his head. "The mile runs were _killing _me! I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Mr. Molina laughed. "Glad I could help." He lifted a piece of paper from his desk and passed it across to Ben. "This will be your new schedule starting tomorrow. Is there anything else I can help with or will that do it?"

Ben accepted the paper gratefully and folded it into a neat rectangle, then looked back at the counselor with a conflicted expression. "Well…" He pinched his lips together, twiddled his thumbs, then shook his head. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Molina asked skeptically.

"Yeah, good."

Mr. Molina nodded acceptingly as Ben rose and reached for the door. "It's always open if you ever need anything."

"Thanks." The teenage closed the door as he left. As much as he'd like that to be true – and even as much as the counselor himself thought it – Ben had his doubts, especially regarding the confidentiality of the issues. The _last_ thing he wanted was for the news of the things he had on his mind to spread through the school.

As he walked back to class, Ben fingered a slip of paper in the pocket of his sweater. He'd given Amy his letter that morning, when he'd carried her French Horn to the band room and apologized for having been unable to contact her all weekend, though he had managed to skirt around the exact reason his father had grounded him. Then when they'd caught each other at the water fountain between classes, she'd slipped him a note of her own, which he hadn't had a chance to read yet.

With a snaking smile on his lips, Ben began to remove the letter from his pocket and looked down, seeing that it was fastened with a little heart shaped sticker. He gently tugged at the sticker, careful not to rip it or the note, and proceeded to unfold the response. The letter was almost completely unfolded by the time Ben neared the restrooms and as he reached to pull back the last fold, the door opened and out stepped Adrian.

The fifteen-year-old tripped at the sight of the majorette and stumbled forward into a heap of arms and legs on the waxed floor. The letter fluttered through the air and also landed on the floor, halfway between the two of them. "Ad-rian!" Ben sputtered, gazing up at her.

Adrian stepped forward, stomping the toe of one of her heels onto the letter as she glared down at the Freshman. "What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously. "Are you following me?"

"What? No! I was just at the counselor's office, you can ask him if you want. I got called out of class to talk about my classes."

Adrian rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'll just do that." She rotated around, making sure the halls were clear, then bent down to hover her face above Ben's. "About what happened the other day," she said lowly, "you haven't uttered anything to anyone, have you?"

"No, why?"

"Because you shouldn't. I may not have said it definitively the other day because you had me so pissed off, but the fact is, it's not even yours, alright?"

"How do you know? 'Definitively' I mean?"

"The timing. I'm with a lot of guys, I'm sure you must know that. So just forget what you saw on Friday, it was nothing and you needn't worry your pretty little head about it. Got it?"

Ben just managed to nod.

"Good." Adrian rose and smashed her shoe a little harder into the letter, tearing the edge. "Have a nice life, Boykewich."

Ben waited until Adrian had ascended the stairs and the sound of her heels were no longer audible to snatch up Amy's letter and pick himself up from the floor. It was amazing how he'd gone from fantasizing about her at the majorette retreat, to regretting everything he'd done with her, to being scared shitless of what might've come from their encounter, to downright hating her! "But if it's really not mine, then I don't have anything to worry about, right? Of course, she could be lying to get me to back off, but…there's always _Ricky_." A little part of him wished it was Ricky's. "Serve them both right." He hugged the letter to his chest. "But somehow I don't see my dad letting this go that easily."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

At lunch, Alice cornered him in the cafeteria and chased him out back to the dumpsters. Henry had been mysteriously absent that day and one look into Alice's eyes told Ben exactly what he needed to know. "I'm gonna kill him!"

Alice folded her arms. "Don't blame Henry, this wasn't his fault."

"He had no business telling-"

"I came over just as your dad was leaving on Saturday, so I knew something was up. Actually, I knew something was up before that, especially with you avoiding us after catering thing, but I hadn't put all the pieces together until Henry told me what was going on. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was appropriate."

Hurt shimmered in her eyes. "Ben, I've been friends with you for exactly as long as Henry has. Why did you choose to confide in him and not me?"

Ben looked at his cafeteria tray. "I guess some things are just easier to talk with other guys about, no offense. I had to tell somebody – it was just fizzing up inside me and I thought I was going to explode – so I told Henry. And I _thought_ he could keep my confidence."

"Well for future reference, I can do that too, okay? I may be female, but that doesn't make me any less a friend or confidant."

Ben nodded.

"So what are you going to do? Have you even spoken to her?"

Ben shrugged. "She says it isn't mine."

Alice scoffed. "And you _believe_ her? Ben, come on! This is Adrian Lee we're talking about here!"

"Exactly! The whole school knows what she's up to! So why shouldn't I believe that?"

"Do you know how far along she is?"

"No."

"Then you can't say for sure that it isn't yours." Alice placed her hands on her hips. "You know, sperm can live for up to a week in the female body. Let's just theorize for a moment that Adrian did have sex with the drummer the first day of school. That's time enough for overlap, Ben."

Ben groaned. "God, I hate it when you go all Human Google on me!"

"Yeah and I hate it that you couldn't trust me, so I guess we're even."

"Are you gonna keep throwing that in my face?"

"Just for today."

"_Great."_

"I think it's pretty reasonable of me. One day of guilt is miniscule in comparison to _seven years_ of best friendship."

"Point taken!"

Alice continued from their previous discussion: "What do you_ want_ to do?"

"Want?" Ben coldly laughed. "I _want_ to be with Amy. That's all I want. Why would I want anything else? Why would I want a baby at fifteen, with a girl I don't care or know anything about and visa versa?"

Alice nodded and surprised him by capturing him in a hug, which was uncharacteristically personal for her. "Well, whatever happens, know that I'm here for you, Ben, and always will be."

Ben bobbed his head against her shoulder, both touched and muted by her actions. Managing one arm around his cafeteria tray, he placed it as far around her back as he could and returned the gesture.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian came home from school to find her mother in the living room on the phone. Judging by the sound of it, it was with her latest boy toy, so Adrian bypassed her into the kitchen. Making sure her mother wasn't watching, she pulled down the soda crackers Ricky had brought her the night he'd taken Grace to the carnival and tiptoed her way down the hall into her bedroom. She was starving, but nothing would stay down.

Crossing to her closet, the sixteen-year-old began to rummage through her clothing for something a little less skintight and more comfortable. Her hands brushed across her majorette uniform and she paused on it, thinking back to the retreat. A little shiver ran up her spine and she quickly yanked the uniform off the hanger and stuffed it into her clothes hamper, refusing to think about it. Finally she came to a lone baby doll top at the back of her closet and changed into it. It looked alright, though admittedly, it looked more like something _Amy Juergens _would wear, not Adrian Lee. She couldn't even recall how she'd come to acquire the particular top.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, she fell into her mattress and pulled up the comforter around her body, cozying herself into the spot that Ricky usually slept in. Closing her eyes, her thoughts turned to only to Ricky and that dazzling smile and satiny voice of his as she chewed on the soda crackers. If it was Ricky's child she was carrying, she wondered if it favored him. "Would," she corrected herself out loud. "Would favor him. It's not a person…yet. If ever."

Then an unsettling thought came to mind: the idea of the child being Ben's and favoring Ben. If it was Ben's and Ricky found out, "Ricky and I will be over. There'd be no chance in hell he'd be with me again after that." Adrian had never been one for gambling, but that's what it was: a game of chance. If the baby was Ben's, it could ruin her life. If the baby was Ricky's, well, that was another gamble in and of itself, but at least it presented circumstances that Adrian liked to think about.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Where are we going?"

"We're making a stop on the way home," Leo answered. He was dressed a little too nicely, in a suit and tie.

"A business meeting?" Ben asked, raising his eyebow.

"Not exactly." Leo removed something from his pocket and handed it to his son.

Ben unfolded the paper as a knot grew in his belly. At the top it had a name: _Cindy Lee_. His hand began to shake. It sounded familiar, not just because that wad Adrian's last name, but because, "That's the name of the woman from the phonebook!"

Leo nodded. "It is."

Looking further down the page, Ben realized it had an address and several paragraphs of information. "What is this?"

"It's a background check," Leo explained. "It's a completely legal service. I used the name and number we got from the phonebook, which is how I was able to get the address-"

"I can't believe you did this! This is an invasion of privacy!"

"We're just going to talk to them, Ben. From the information I've gathered, it seems that Cindy is Adrian's mother."

"And just how much do you think she'll want to talk to you once she finds out about you looking her up behind her back like some sort of stalker?"

"As I said," Leo replied, "it's a legal service. I came across it through my business, but anyone can use it."

"That doesn't make it right!" Ben began to shred the paper and throw it to the floor of the limo. "You've crossed a line, Dad, and I am _not_ going up to her house! It might not even be mine, you know that? Today Adrian told me that she's sure it isn't mine!"

"It's your responsibility to address this, son. If what you say is true and the baby isn't yours, then I will be relieved enough for the both of us, but neither of us have any proof of that yet." The limo came to a stop. "And you _will_ go up there with me."

"Or what?"

"If you're too irresponsible to address the fact that you may be a father, then you're certainly too irresponsible to have a girlfriend…"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"…if you need a place to stay, of course you can!"

Adrian glared at the back of her mother's head. She'd stepped back into the living room to find her mother still rattling on the phone, though it sounded like the conversation was drawing to a close. When she hung up, Adrian placed her hands on her hips. "Who was that?"

Cindy jumped and looked over her shoulder. "A friend."

"A friend?" Adrian echoed suspiciously. "What kind of friend?"

Cindy sighed. "I'm not in the mood to fight, Adrian. He's just a friend, okay."

"And he needs a place to stay." Adrian touched her forehead. "Can't he stay at a motel or something? I'm not feeling great, you know that. I don't feel like company." At those words, a knock sounded at the door, and the teenager looked up.

Cindy immediately stood and hustled towards the door. "This isn't up for debate," she said, seeming grateful for the distraction of the door. She smoothed her hair and clothes, then opened it. "Yes?"

Adrian wandered around the couch, expecting to hear Ricky's voice in reply. She wasn't looking forward to it, Ricky hadn't met her mother yet, and she didn't particularly want them to meet anyway. Not yet.

"Mrs. Lee?"

"Ms. Lee," Cindy corrected. "And you are?"

"Leo Boykewich."

Adrian's legs seemed to turn to stone and she almost fell over where she stood.

"And this is my son, Ben."

Adrian noticed the stiffening in her mother's shoulders.

"I'm sorry. Mr. Boykewich, but I'm afraid I'm a little busy right now-"

"We're here to discuss the matter with Adrian," Leo continued, undeterred.

"I don't believe there is a matter-"

"She may be carrying my son's baby."

"I don't know who you think you are, but you need to leave. _Now!_"

Adrian rung her hands through her hair; she just wanted to shrink away and die. "How did they even find out where I live?" she whispered to herself.

"I'm sorry if we've caused you any distress this afternoon, Ms. Lee, but my son and I just wanted to inform you that he will be taking full responsibility if the baby is his and will honor his half of whatever decision Adrian chooses to make regarding the pregnancy."

"What pregnancy?"

Adrian slapped her hand to her mouth, eyes bulging and stomach reeling. She felt the bile crawling up her throat at the sound of _Ricky's voice_. She clutched her stomach and darted down the hallway into the bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door before she threw up the toilet lid and began to vomit.


	7. Absent Minded

**A/N: **Okay, this story has thus far been done in third person limited POV, either from Ben's or Adrian's perspectives. I think I'm now going to add in Ricky's third person limited POV as well, since he now knows about the pregnancy.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Absent Minded**

"You didn't have the abortion, did you?"

"I don't want to talk about this right now-"

"Too bad." Cindy filled the bathroom doorway. "Now I just bought us a little time by getting Ben, his father, and Ricky to leave, but you can't avoid them forever." She shook her head, face chalk full of disappointment. "I can't believe you lied to me-"

"I didn't lie!" Adrian yelled. "I didn't tell you one way or the other, there's a difference."

"Lie by omission, then. You purposely let me think you'd had the abortion."

"Well I was going to, that's what I went there for-"

"Did you change your mind?"

"No. Not exactly." Adrian groaned and slumped against the bathtub. "Ben showed up. He didn't know about anything at that point, but apparently he was there to get tested because – because of me. Anyway, some shit went down and he realized I was there for the abortion and he started fighting me on it. I got angry and upset and I just left. I figured I'd go back later, but…"

"But what?" Cindy asked, voice getting higher in pitch. "You changed your mind?"

Adrian closed her eyes. "I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"Exactly what I said!"

"How can you possibly want to have a baby in high school, Adrian?"

"You did!"

"Yes!" Cindy shouted. "And look where it got me! Us! I worked constantly, my parents resented me, _you_ resented me-"

"I didn't resent you."

"Didn't you? I was never there for you, I always missed the important moments in your life-"

Adrian felt herself tear up again. "You were the best you could be under the circumstances, with my no good father around."

Cindy looked away. "Adrian," she whispered, "you're not thinking of keeping the baby just to keep one of those two boys, are you?"

"Why?" Adrian shrugged. "Why would it matter? I mean, even if I was, it wouldn't matter. If he got me pregnant, it's half of his responsibility regardless, right? It's not like I went out with the intention to get pregnant or anything, we were both stupid and things just happened."

"It won't work. You can't force someone to love you by trapping them with a baby! And," Cindy hugged herself, "in this situation, it's even more risky! What if you try to keep that baby for just one boy and it turns out to be the baby of the other boy's? Then where would you be?"

Adrian wiped her forehead with the back of her head. "Don't you think I've thought about that? That's what I've been mulling over since Friday, but now that they both know about the pregnancy, I don't have the backdoor that I had before!"

"If you get the abortion, you might still be able to preserve things with the guy you want."

Adrian glared at her mother. "I thought you said this was my choice? That you'd stand by me no matter what? Are you now advocating I get the abortion? Or…is that what you were hoping all along?"

Cindy was silent. A slip of cotton could've hit the tile and it would've echoed.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ricky! What are you doing here?"

Ricky lowered his head, putting on his best distraught face. "I just needed to see you, Grace."

"Is something wrong?" She touched his arm with the gentlest of fingers. "Are you okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Ricky shook his head. "Not exactly." He exhaled. "Maybe. I don't know. I just – I need to get away from my life for a little while, okay?"

Grace nodded and stepped aside, waving her arm across the threshold. "Come in, come in!" She led him into the living room, where the smell of fresh baked cookies enlightened the air. "I probably look a mess," she replied bashfully. "I just got done making some chocolate chip cookies. You want some?"

Ricky smiled. "That'd be great, Grace." He followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at her table while she scurried around with the energy of a squirrel, sliding warm cookies off the pan and pouring an icy cold glass of whole milk.

"Here you go! Tell me what you think…" She smiled bashfully. "I think I may have cooked them a little long…"

Ricky took one bite into the cookie: it was a little crispy on the edges, but the middle was gooey and so hot it almost burned his tongue. He took a sip of the milk and then dipped the no longer full moon shaped treat into the glass to cool it off. "I think they're the best cookies I've ever had!"

Grace playfully slapped his shoulder. "You don't have to flatter me, it's not like they're homemade or anything, just from a package mix. I was going to make homemade ones, mind you, but then I realized we were out of chocolate chips, so I was thinking of seeing if the neighbor had any, but then she wasn't home so I-"

The cheerleader's voice fell deaf on Ricky's ears as he leaned in to kiss her. He noted that her mouth tasted warm and sweet, completely unlike Adrian's, and he felt her go as soft as the middle of the cookies in his hands. When he pulled back, he realized she still seemed to be recovering. "You eat cookie dough while you're baking?" he grinned.

"How did you-"

"I can taste it on your lips," he cut in smoothly, running his thumb across her lower lip.

Grace shivered, her cheeks suddenly on fire. "Ricky…" She placed her hand to her chest, seemingly trying to catch her breath. "You said you needed to get away from your life," she said, changing the subject. "What's the matter?" She touched his hand. "You can tell me, I won't judge. I promise."

Ricky could feel his jawbone grinding below his gums as it yearned to open and spill to her everything that had just taken place in the hallway at Adrian's condo, but alas, he shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry, Grace. It's just not my place." He knew it sounded better that way, at least to her.

Grace nodded slowly. "I understand. But when you're ready, I'm always here. _Always._" The blonde touched his arm, warm like the ray of sunshine that she was. "I ran into Adrian today," she announced, trying to turn the topic away from him.

Ricky's limbs became taut. "Really?" he asked, voice strained like a strand of hair about to snap, but Grace didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah." Her face went long and sour. "In the bathroom. She seemed really sick, like maybe she never got over whatever she had last week. I'm worried about her." Grace tucked her hair behind her shoulder.

"Did she tell you what was wrong?" he asked, worry lacing his words, though not for the reasons he suspected Grace thought.

"No, she seemed pretty agitated. I would've stayed longer, but then I was late for class." She looked down at her shoes. "I don't know," she sighed. "Maybe it would've been the Christian thing to do to stay with her anyway."

Ricky wound his arms around the Freshman, pulling her into his chest. "I appreciate that you did that, Grace. She hasn't done anything to deserve your kindness-"

"Love the sinner," Grace reminded.

Ricky felt his skin twinge. "Like me."

Grace pulled away from him. "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," he interrupted. "I _am_ a sinner. I've done a lot of bad things."

Grace touched his face. "It doesn't matter what you've done in the past, Ricky. It's what you do _now_ that counts." She hugged him again.

At first Ricky resisted the inner warmth that her words provided, then he gradually began to feel something that could only be described as melting or thawing on the inside, the way he was giving into Grace's embrace on the outside. "Maybe if you knew about my past, you wouldn't be so quick to say that."

Grace shook her head below his chin. "No. You're a good person, Ricky Underwood. I can see that and so can God. You may not want to tell me what's going on with you right now and I completely understand that, but I promise that if you let God into your heart, he can help you with whatever you're going through…and if you ever need a physical friend, I'm always here."

Ricky internally scoffed at the idea of Grace's God helping him. He'd given up on God a long time ago. But even so, there was something about the other things she'd said that niggled at him. There were forces in place now that he had no control over, but she was right: he still had control over one thing, his own actions.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

There was no other way to describe it than pure mortification. Staring into Cindy's eyes as his father had professed how he would be responsible for Adrian and the baby, if the baby proved to be his, had been one of the most degrading things he'd ever had to do. It was further exacerbated by the fact that the hot shot drummer had walked up right at that moment and heard _everything_. Going solely by the look on Ricky's face, which was the same one that Ben had imagined himself to have, he also suspected that it was the first inkling the drummer had gotten about the pregnancy.

"Mom," Ben whispered, kneeling into the grass in front of a giant marble headstone that bore his mother's name: _Sarah Helen Boykewich_. "What am I going to do?" He reached out to touch the engraved _S_ with his fingers, like he was running them through a curl of hair. The last time he'd visited her headstone was just the previous month, on the twenty-fifth of September. It had been years since he'd made two visits in such close proximity, but the situation was at a breaking point, and luckily his father had taken pity on him in spite of still maintaining that he was grounded.

"You know, even though your mother and I married right out of high school, she was skeptical about having children for a long time."

"Can you blame her?" Ben asked defiantly. "You were eighteen, just three years older than I am. You still had everything to look forward to."

"I wanted to try for children for years before she did."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Well if I'd had things my way, we might never have had you, Benjamin. And during those twelve years where we were childless, my business took off because I had time for it in ways that I wouldn't have had if your mother hadn't insisted on waiting to have children."

Ben glared. "And so talking about how great your life turned out because you _waited_ to have me is supposed to make me feel better how?"

"You're hearing this the wrong way. My point is that I didn't get to decide my future. Things happened beyond my control that I initially was unhappy with, but turned out to be a blessing. Like having you. And although the circumstances right now may seem considerably less than ideal, maybe they're actually a blessing in disguise?"

Ben stared at his mother's headstone for a long time, then watched his reflection in the marble as he shook his head. "And then sometimes things just happen, that aren't good and ruin your life, just because they do…no rhyme or reason. Like mom dying…and this pregnancy." He rose from the grass and blew past his father, only bothering to look back once to see that his dad staring helplessly at the fated headstone.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ricky!" A tall African-American man with a mustache, somewhat resembling an older Eddie Murphy, was just twisting the key in the door handle of his office when he turned to discover the teenager staring at him.

Ricky winced under the elder man's gaze. "If you're already closing up tonight, I can come back tomorrow-"

"No, no." The lines on his forehead stacked together. "Of course not, I don't mind staying for you." Dr. Fields quickly turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, swiping the lights on his way inside. "You look a little out of breath, are you alright?"

Ricky hovered nervously in the doorway, fingers twitching as the clutched the frame and eyes jumping from one side of their sockets to the other. "I'm fine."

Dr. Fields moved to his chair and sat down before motioning towards the couch. "Please, take a seat."

Ricky cautiously kicked the door shut with the edge of his sneaker and moved to the couch, where he grabbed a red pillow and hugged it to his roiling stomach. He watched his therapist's face in order to gage his own actions. He didn't want to outright tell him all the things he needed to say, but he wanted Dr. Fields to_ make_ him explain himself.

As the silence lingered on, Dr. Fields nodded slowly. "You certainly surprised me," he said. "Lately I've gotten pretty used to you showing up late for your _scheduled_ appoints, if you don't try to rebook them that is. So I take it…this must be pretty important?"

Ricky closed his eyes. "I was over at Grace's."

"Grace," Dr. Fields nodded. "The cheerleader you told me about last time?"

"Yeah."

"And how is she?"

"Fine. Grace is always fine."

Dr. Fields nodded. "And did something happen there? Did you-"

"I didn't have sex with her, if that's what you're getting at."

Again, the therapist nodded. "Then what happened to agitate you?"

"It wasn't what Grace did. Well, not exactly. She said some things…" The teenager shook his head. "But that's not it either. I went over there because – because…I went to Adrian's today."

"The majorette?"

"Quit answering me with questions!" he suddenly snapped. "You know damn well which one Adrian is!"

"Alright," Dr. Fields agreed. "So you went to Adrian's. And then what?"

"When I got there, someone else was there. This scrawny little punk, _Ben_. He's the one dating Amy."

"The one who turned you down at band camp?"

"Yeah."

"And Adrian was…_seeing_ him?"

"No. In fact, I never even saw her at all. Ben was at the door with his father, talking to Adrian's mother."

"I see."

"No. You don't! You know what they were talking about?" Without waiting for Dr. Fields to answer, Ricky suddenly threw the pillow he was holding against the wall. "A pregnancy! Adrian's pregnant!"

Dr. Fields retained a stony expression. "With this Ben's child?"

Ricky looked down at his shoes. "Adrian and I have had sex too. A lot of sex. The condom slipped once. I never thought anything of it. I assumed with someone of her reputation, she was on birth control."

"So you're saying you think the baby could be yours?"

"I have no fucking idea _what _to think!" He suddenly kicked the leg of the table. "For all I know, it could be mine and she's just trying to trap him because he's a little rich snot." Ricky looked up, feeling the heat on his face and the swelling of the veins along his neck. "If there was any chance it was mine, why would he know and not me? I didn't even know they knew each other!"

Dr. Fields crossed his legs and reclined into his chair. "I thought you and Adrian had an open relationship?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what_ is_ the point? Are you no longer satisfied with an open relationship?"

"I –" Ricky faltered, then turned and punched the arm of the couch. "I'm pissed!"

"_Why?"_ Dr. Fields insisted. "Are you_ jealous_ of Ben?"

"Why would I be jealous?" Ricky torpedoed back. "Ben's got nothing on me!"

Dr. Fields folded his arms. "I would've thought you'd feel relief to think that the baby isn't yours."

"I don't want a baby at sixteen."

"And yet you're still upset that Adrian didn't say anything to you."

"We may have an open relationship, but she's still seeing me more than any other guy right now."

"But if the baby was the result of another guy during your open relationship, then certainly that's no concern of yours unless she were to decide to have the baby, correct?"

Ricky snarled. "But she can't be sure it's not mine when the condom slipped!"

"Do you know how far along the pregnancy is?" Dr. Fields queried. "Perhaps it was before you even met Adrian?"

"Why would she be screwing me if she was knocked up by some other guy? That's sick."

"It's actually perfectly healthy for pregnant women to continue sexual intercourse during their pregnancies, even late into their pregnancies…" Dr. Fields lifted his eyebrow. "Maybe she didn't even know she was pregnant until recently. Have you actually spoken to Adrian herself on the matter or just accepted what you heard? Perhaps–"

"I didn't hear wrong and no, it _is_ what I think. She's been having morning sickness. I brought her medicine and soda crackers for it last week, when she told me she'd eaten bad yogurt. And this morning, Grace caught her blowing chunks in the bathroom."

"You brought her medicine and crackers?" Dr. Fields asked, his voice getting a touch higer pitched with intrigue.

Ricky shook his head. "Don't do that!" he hissed. "It's not that important, the medicine and crackers. Don't think it means something it doesn't."

"I didn't say it meant anything, I was just noting what you already mentioned."

"Well, good, because it didn't mean anything. I – I just wanted to make sure she was better by the weekend. The sex is the best on the weekend."

"And why is that?"

"Why does that even matter?"

"Maybe it doesn't."

"No homework to worry about the next day, okay? That's why it's better, we have more time to-" Ricky stopped himself and noted that Dr. Fields face had a certain air about it, like he was about to lean forward, just waiting for Ricky to finish. The teenager bit his tongue and shrugged instead. "More time to fuck uninterrupted. That's all." He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not, but Ricky seemed to think Dr. Fields looked a slight disappointed, which left him feeling satisfied in his answer.

"Well then," the therapist drawled, "what are you going to do about the situation? Are you going to confront Adrian?"

"Why would I do that?"

"It might help to ease your frustration."

"I can just find another girl – any girl – to ease my frustration. You know that."

"Of course." The therapist dropped his hand to the arm of his chair, then began to strum his fingers. "Alright, then, Ricky, humor me: if, hypothetically speaking, the child was yours, what would you do about it?"

Ricky looked down at his shoes again.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian stood in her bathroom, staring at herself in her mirror. She untied her robe and let it drop to the floor: all she wore was her bra and underwear. She examined herself in the mirror, studying and touching every exposed centimeter of flesh. After a solid fifteen minutes, she finally picked something up from the back of the toilet seat and wrapped it around her tiny waist: Ricky's white belt. It was far too big for her, even on the tightest hole. Then she turned sideways and stuck out her stomach as far as it would go, until she could finally hold the belt up on the tightest setting.

With a ragged sigh, she finally unhooked the belt and dropped it onto the counter before sliding her robe back onto her bare shoulders. She opened the bathroom door and padded over to her bed, where her laptop was humming on her pillow. She typed _prenatal DNA test_ into the search bar and waited while the computer calculated the hits. When it was complete, the first link she clicked read: _What is amniocentesis?_


	8. Your Bleedin' Heart

**A/N: **I just got finished with this chapter when I was delighted to see that I'd picked up an unexpected review. **Animefouryou**, I am delighted to add more right now! ;)

_**Turning Tables**_

**Your Bleedin' Heart**

"So have you heard from Adrian?" Henry asked as he came upon Ben at his locker.

Ben spun around. "Thankfully, no."

Henry looked about and then ducked close to his friend's face. "Do you think she…_you know_? She's been gone all week. Except for Monday, but then-"

"You were at home pretending to be sick to avoid telling me you spilled everything to Alice," Ben finished.

Henry squirmed. "Yeah…that."

Ben shook his head. "I don't know, okay? Adrian nor her mother have been in touch with us, so I have no idea what's going on, and frankly, I'm glad it hasn't come up yet." Ben looked down the hallway, where he could see Amy chatting and laughing with Madison and Lauren. "I don't want to say or do anything until I know exactly what's going on."

Henry nodded. "No use in screwing things up with Amy until and unless you have to."

"But on the bright side," Ben said, reaching into his locker, "I did find this in the mail last night." He handed a ripped envelope to Henry and nodded. "Look!"

Henry tugged out a folded piece of paper from the envelope and examined it, then a goofy grin lit up his face. "You're clean!"

Ben shut his locker and leaned against it with a relieved sigh. "I know!" he exhaled, grinning like an idiot. "It's the only good news I've had all week. No STDs, no STIs, no anything!"

"What are you all smiles about?" Amy asked, surprising both boys with her sudden presence.

Henry scrunched up Ben's test results and shoved them into his pocket. "Nothing!" he lied, his cheeks puffing out as he forced a smile to reinforce his illusion. "I was just saying that I got a letter from my great aunt in, uh, Georgia! Good ol' Auntie…" He spotted someone passing by with a High Sierra logo on their backpack. "…Sierra! Always good to hear from her. Heh."

Amy nodded uncertainly and flashed a forced smile. "Uh, well, that's good."

Ben wrapped an arm around Amy's shoulders. "Ignore him," he said, turning her away from Henry and his blustering. "Anyway, how are you?"

"I asked you first." She nudged him. "Come on, tell me. You've been upset about your dad grounding you this week, so what's up?"

Ben shrugged. "I guess I'm just glad that it's finally Friday, that's all. And, of course, that I'm getting a chance to talk with my girlfriend. You look beautiful, by the way."

Amy grinned and pecked Ben on the cheek. "Even though you always say that, thank you."

"It's always true."

"So what are your plans for the weekend? I'd like to live vicariously through you, if you don't mind."

"Not many, I'm afraid. I have an oral presentation to give on Monday and it requires visual aid, so I'm going to spend all weekend constructing a power point."

"What class?"

"English. We just read _Macbeth_, so I'm doing my report on Lady Macbeth and how she was essentially the driving force behind Macbeth's downfall." A cheeky smile spread across Amy's face. "I'm calling it 'Lady Macdeath,' genius, huh?"

Ben scrunched up his nose. "Sounds about right," he agreed, bitterness lacing his words.

"I wish you could come over," she added dimly. "My dad's gone this week, gone to Vegas for a furniture buying trip or something. It'd be the perfect time to bring you over and have you work your charm on my mom so that she'll already love you by the time I have to introduce you to my dad."

"I've already met your mom."

"In passing when you've picked me up, but you haven't really been _around_ her."

Ben frowned. "Your dad's that bad, huh?"

"Not bad, per se, just a little overprotective. He still thinks of me as his little girl, you know? And I'm his firstborn and 'The Good Girl.' Not that Ashley's not, but you know what I mean…" Amy shrugged. "It's a lot of responsibility."

"I'm surprised I haven't met your dad yet…even in passing."

"He's been gone a lot," Amy admitted in a low tone. "Him and my mom…I think they're having problems. Ashley thinks they've been fighting behind our backs. My mom was complaining at the start of the school year about money, so my theory is that maybe the furniture store isn't doing so hot, but I don't know for sure."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's not like they haven't fought before, especially about money. I know they'll work it out…they have to."

They arrived at the band room and Ben handed Amy her books and lifted her French Horn case into her band cubby. "I'm sure they will," he agreed, before kissing her swiftly on her petal soft lips. "But I am sorry I can't be there as much as I should be while it's happening."

"Hopefully things will work out with your dad," Amy nodded. "And…at some point, you might feel comfortable confiding in me-"

Ben wrapped his hands around Amy's shoulders in a strong but sensitive manner. "I do want to confide in you," he whispered. "Just…in time. I really appreciate you being patient and understanding with me, though."

"You do the same for me." The bell began to ring and Amy looked a little disappointed, but leaned up on her toes and grabbed Ben around the neck, planting a soft kiss on his lips. "Until Monday!"

"Until Monday," Ben agreed, his stomach twisting at the thought of not seeing Amy again for another two whole days.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ricky hovered in the hallway of Adrian's apartment building, eyes glued to the door with the number three on it. He'd been halfway to school that morning when he'd decided to take a detour at the last minute and had waited until he'd seen Cindy get in her car and drive off before making his way towards the condo. He had been ready to walk up to the door and bang on it until Adrian opened it, when a tall, balding man had sauntered out with a bulbous black trash back. He waited until the man had disappeared out of the hallway before collecting his nerve and moving to the door, where he raised his fist to knock, then, alternatively, decided to try the handle instead.

The door clicked open and Ricky leaned forward, peering into the crack. There was silence. "Adrian?" He shifted his eyes, checking to see if the man he'd seen exiting the apartment was coming back. "Adrian?" he called, this time louder. Still, nothing. Inhaling sharply, Ricky pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside. His legs felt wobbly at first, but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind and strode through the apartment like he'd done several times before, heading for Adrian's bedroom. When he got to it, Adrian's door was shut, but Ricky tried the handle and forcefully pushed it open without calling her name.

His surprise appearance was first met with a shriek, then, as Adrian registered who was standing in her bedroom, horror. The pregnant teen was lying in bed with a plastic trash bin by the side of her bed, Pepto-Bismol on her dresser, and a plate of soda crackers on her pillow. She bolted up at Ricky's uninvited presence. "Get out!"

"We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Like hell there is! You've been avoiding me all week!" Ricky pointed an accusatory finger at the Latina teen. "You know that I know about the pregnancy, that's the only explanation, and you can't just hide at home forever."

"How did you even get in here?" Adrian demanded, climbing from her bed and slipping on her robe.

Footsteps thundered from down the hallway. "What the hell is going on in here?"

Ricky jumped as the balding man he'd seen taking the trash out barged into the room. He took a few steps back, away from the man and closer to Adrian.

"Who the hell are you?" The balding man scrunched his face and looked to Adrian. "Did you let him in? It sounded like you were screaming in here."

Adrian grit her teeth. "It's _fine_, George." She cast a murderous glance at Ricky. "Yes, I let him in, but he won't be staying long. He just came to bring me some school work. In fact," she adjusted the tie on her robe, "I was just about to go out to his car with him to get it."

George nodded, eyeing Ricky with suspicion. "Well, alright then." He made a peace sign with his fingers, pointed it to his eyes, and then flipped it between him and Ricky. "But I'm watching you, buddy! Adrian's been sick all week, so don't you try to keep her out!"

Adrian waited until George had disappeared back down the hall, where she heard her mother's bedroom door shut, then she sighed and motioned her hand. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting to talk to you."

"And you can do that as I'm walking you back to your car," she replied emotionlessly.

Ricky grit his fists but had no other choice than to follow her brisk pace back through the apartment. As she skirted out the front door, he reached out and jerked her shoulder, spinning her around to face him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because there was nothing to tell, I'd already set the date for the abortion."

Ricky flinched back at the last word. "So you already-"

"Why would you care anyway?"

"Because the timeline fits and one of the condoms slipped, isn't that reason enough?"

Adrian placed her hands on her hips. "It seems to me you'd be pleased as punch if I got an abortion, what with you being the 'oh-poor-me-foster-boy' and everything. Hardly seems like something you should be skipping school to break into my home and harass me about."

"I didn't break in, that George guy left the door unlocked."

Adrian's eyes rolled back in her head. "My mother keeps bitching at him about that," she groaned.

"What does that Ben kid have to do with this? Why did he find out before me?"

Adrian gnawed her teeth together. "I didn't invite him if that's what your insinuating. He saw me at the clinic, okay? And somehow he figured out where I live, because he and his father came over here to inform my mother that they'd help in whatever way they could."

Ricky held his fists as his side, desperately wishing he had a portal punching bag with him. "So it's Ben's?" he asked. "You didn't tell me you fucked him!"

"I don't like your tone!" she yelled. "Ben was a one time thing and he happened before I met you, so it was none of your concern!"

"So you've been pregnant this whole time?" he hollered. "You've just been letting me screw you while you're incubating someone else's kid? That's sick! That's fucking sick!" Adrian's hand came down on the side of Ricky's face and he recoiled, almost losing his balance.

"I don't know whose it is!" Adrian screamed, her face glowing like hot coals even despite her deceptive olive skin tone. "But for what it's worth, you're a bastard, Ricky Underwood!" She scooped up a rock from the ground. "And I hope it's not yours!" She cast the rock at Ricky's window shield and a piercing sound filled the air when it hit.

Ricky raced to his car to inspect the window, where he found a nasty nick was in place thanks to the rock. The back of his throat vibrated with fury as he turned to scream back at Adrian, but she was nowhere to be seen. A moment later, he heard a reverberating _thud_, likely Adrian's condo door slamming shut.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

At noon, Ben stood in the cafeteria lunch line, craning his neck to count the number of people in front of him.

"Fifteen," Alice said without turning around. "So sixteen for Henry and-"

"Seventeen for me," Ben groaned. His stomach growled as he inhaled the smells of greasy pepperoni pizza. He tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to think of anything that would stop him from thinking about food.

"I hope Adrian's okay, I haven't seen her all week."

Ben's neck snapped up at the sound of Adrian's name coming out of Grace Bowman's mouth. He looked over his shoulder and spotted Grace two people down from him, talking with a couple of other girls, who he recognized as cheerleaders.

"Maybe she finally realized what a pathetic whore she is and decided not to come back?" one cheerleader scoffed.

"Or maybe the slut finally got knocked up after all the sleeping around and boyfriend stealing she's done."

Ben watched Grace, who had opened her mouth towards the first cheerleader – likely to protest – suddenly close it in response to the second. His brows creased as the sunny blonde looked down at the floor and he felt his stomach do a somersault. "She can't know," he muttered in a voice so low only he could hear himself say it.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Henry asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at Ben.

Ben slugged Henry's arm. "Shut up, Henry." As hungry as he'd been before, he suddenly felt equally as sick now. He grabbed Henry's arm to pull him out of line, but the Asian boy resisted.

"What're you doing?"

"We need to talk."

Henry pointed to the front of the line. "In thirteen people, we can talk."

"Now!"

"Hungry!"

Ben threw up his hands. "You'll find me at our usual table."

"What? You're not going to eat? You've been complaining about food since I saw you at your locker!"

Ben whisked by Grace and the other two cheerleaders, who were still cackling between themselves, but he wasn't sure if it was about Adrian or another unfortunate victim. He clutched his stomach and headed outside, where he found the table he usually sat at with Henry and Alice and slid onto the bench.

"Something wrong?"

Ben lifted his head at the sound of his girlfriend's voice, music to his ears. "Hey," he smiled, shaking his head. "No, just not hungry."

"You sure? You look a little peckish." Amy lifted an orange from the tray. "Sure you don't want to share with me?" She dug her nails – plain and unpolished, so unlike Adrian's – into the orange and tore back the rind.

Ben sniffed the ripe scent of orange. "My mom used to throw orange peel down the garbage disposal when I was a kid to give it a fresh citrus scent." He stared at Amy's nails when she was done pulling the rind off, the quicks had been turned from white to a yellowy-orange color.

"That's a good idea," Amy nodded. "I might try that." She tugged off a juicy slice and the juice dribbled down her wrist. Amy offered up the slice to Ben. "You know you want it," she winked.

Ben laughed and accepted the slice, feeling a tad bit better about himself. It _did _smell good. Before she could take her hand away, he wrapped his fingers around it and lifted her wrist to his lips, kissing it softly over the juice trail.

Amy grinned and bit her lip, then leaned in, kissing Ben's juicy lips. Leaning back, she licked her own before taking a tantalizing bite off the tip of her own orange slice.

Ben popped the orange slice into his mouth and chewed it slowly. The way Amy looked at him made him feel light and airy, like he'd just woken up from a dream and still had that fuzzy sedated feeling going on. "Amy," he whispered, "where do you see your life going?"

Amy made a little grunting noise and stopped chewing in order to stare at him. When she finally swallowed she shrugged. "That's kind of a deep question for a Friday afternoon, isn't it?"

"I guess."

"But," she added, "since you asked…" Amy looked at the sky. "I always saw myself going to Julliard. That's my biggest dream. I want to finish high school and go to Julliard and became a real musician." She shifted her eyes back to him. "How about you?"

"I never really thought about it much," he admitted. "Not until recently."

"Until recently?"

"Things have given me a little perspective. Knowing you, for example."

"Maybe we could go to New York together?" she smiled, offering him another slice of orange. "Wouldn't that be crazy?"

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Henry drawled as he smacked his tray down across from Ben.

"What would be crazy?" Alice asked, seating herself next to her boyfriend.

"New York," Amy replied. "Ben and I were just talking about our futures after high school." She watched the way Alice looked at Ben and frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," Alice replied, quickly turning her attention to the pizza on her tray. "Ben's just never spoken about that even to us." She picked up the pizza slice and took a bite, effectively avoiding having to answer anything else with a mouthful.

"Amy!" Madison's voice whined.

Ben, along with the other three people at the table, looked up to see Madison and Lauren heading towards them. Ben noted that Lauren looked irritated, while Madison looked like she was about to fall into a long and detailed story of woe. "Hi," he said, waving his hand slightly.

"Hi, Ben," Lauren grumped.

"Why aren't you sitting with us?" Madison complained.

"I got out of band practice late and didn't see you guys, so I came to sit with Ben."

"I need to talk to you!" Madison sniffed.

Amy sighed. "Is this Jack related?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Lauren deadpanned.

Amy turned guiltily towards Ben. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "But I should probably take this."

"Go ahead, that's what friends are for."

Before removing herself from the table, she quickly leaned over and gave Ben a farewell kiss. "Monday."

Ben nodded and watched her leave, admiring the way she practically floated when she walked on those brilliantly long legs.

"So I take it you haven't mentioned that your future might include fatherhood?" Alice strummed her fingers against the table with a frown.

"I doubt Amy's gonna wanna be a step-mom at fifteen," Henry agreed.

Ben laid his head on the table, avoiding looking at both of his friends. "Eat your lunch and mind your own business while you're at it."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

At ten after five, Ricky blew into the kitchen to find his foster mother, Margaret, waiting patiently at the kitchen table, with a mug between her hands and another mug, which was empty, seated across from her.

Ricky groaned and dropped his backpack into a vacant chair. "What is this?"

"I'd like to talk to you."

"I'm not in the mood."

"Too bad. You live in my house, so you're going to comply with my requests." She pointed to the chair opposite her. _"Sit."_

Ricky dropped into the seat with a low growl. "What do you want to talk about?"

Margaret rose from her chair and scooped up the mug that was in front of her foster son. "I've noticed you've been acting quite strangely this week…" She pulled out a small packet of apple cider mix from the cupboard, tore the top off, and poured it into the empty mug.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've never been good at lying to me, Ricky." Margaret moved to the sink and let hot water run into the mug. "I was trying to be patient and let whatever's bothering you run its course, but then I got a call today. Do you have any guesses who it was?"

"Nope." He folded his arms, glaring at her.

"The school. You skipped all of your classes." She slid the mug into the microwave and set it to run for a minute-and-a-half. "Would you like to tell me why?"

Ricky shook his head. "Not particularly, no."

Margaret nodded and moved around the table, where she had her tote bag sitting. She reached inside and pulled out a small blue folder, which she opened up and laid out in front of her foster son. "How about now?"

Ricky looked down at the contents of the folder while Margaret stared over his shoulder, making him feel all the more irritable. Then he began to notice the typing on the pages were lists, web addresses. His face began to grow warm. "What are you doing with these?"

"I asked you first," Margaret replied simply. The microwave beeped and she returned to it, taking a spoon from the drawer and stirring the cider.

"You went through my computer!"

"A computer which your father and I bought you, which resides in our home, in the room we let our underage son live in. I'm sorry that you feel upset about that, but I have every right to check your browsing history, and I only did so after you broke my trust by not showing up for school." Margaret set the steaming mug of cider down in front of Ricky and sat back into her seat to calmly sip her own cider. "Now what I'd like to know is: which girl is it?" She nodded towards the folder. "I know perfectly well what amniocentesis is and I can only draw a couple of conclusions on why you've been researching it. Though, if you have an alternative explanation, I'd love to hear it."

Ricky closed the folder and pushed it towards Margaret. He was silence for a full minute, then wrapped his hands around the mug and brought it to his lips, drinking it deep despite the way the liquid burned the taste buds on his tongue, leaving them as numb as he felt after his confrontation with Adrian that morning. When he set the mug down, he looked straight into Margaret's eyes. "It's Adrian."


	9. Price Of Life

**A/N: **Hehe, glad to see you're enjoying things so far, **BasicHBKnomics**! You should get a couple of the things you mentioned in this chapter, but I'm not sure if they'll be exactly how you hoped. Anyway, one more update today because I'm not sure if I'll be able to update tomorrow or not.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Price Of Life**

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay home this weekend? I have a friend who would jump at the chance to pick up another flight, Francine's always looking to pick up some more hours-"

"I don't want! Gooo!" Adrian literally walked her mother to the front door. "I'll be fine. I'm always fine."

"But in your condition-"

"I'm pregnant, not dying." Adrian ferociously shook her head. "Besides, we need the money. I'll be fine, I promise."

Cindy resigned and gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you Sunday night, _Chica_."

"_Adios."_ Adrian tapped her fingers against her hips as her mother pulled up the extendable handle on her luggage case, opened the door, gave another longing look at her, and then finally left. She watched the top lock slide into place as her mother looked it from the other side of the door and then waited until she couldn't hear the squeaks of the wheels on her mother's luggage before she collapsed against the door in relief.

George poked his head around the corner. "Is she gone?"

Adrian frowned. "She's gone."

"Are you still sure about this?"

Adrian nodded. "The condo is yours until tomorrow morning."

"Where are you gonna be?"

"Not your problem."

George nodded. "Fair enough." He smiled. "I really appreciate you doing this for me, Adrian."

"I'm not doing it for you," Adrian glared. "I'm doing it for your daughters. Kids shouldn't have to grow up without their fathers."

"You know, you're pretty wise for a sixteen-year-old."

"Don't try to humor me."

"I'm not!" he insisted. "I really mean that. You're a smart girl, Adrian." George looked around the room. "You've got such a nice place, I think Amy and Ashley are gonna love it!"

Adrian gulped. "Amy?"

"Yeah, Amy Juergens."

"Y-your last name is _Juergens_?"

"Yeah, you didn't know that?"

"My mother never mentioned it," Adrian replied bitterly.

George shrugged. "You don't know her, do you? She's a year younger than you…"

"No!" Adrian replied quickly. "I've heard of her, but I don't _know_ her and she doesn't know me, so you should be good." She snapped up her purse. "I'll see you later."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The beach wasn't that appealing in November. Not the way it had been in the last few days of August, when he'd first met Adrian. He recalled how sexy she'd looked, how _exotic_, compared to all the other scantily clad women in their bikinis that day. He'd seen her around school prior to that, but they'd never officially met, which in retrospect, had been quite the shame.

Ricky kicked at the sand with his sneaker. A part of him wanted to tug off his shoes and socks and dig his toes into it, but the logical side of his brain warned him that it was probably ice cold this time of year. Unlike the teal of the water on the day they'd met, the ocean was a stony color today, reflecting the way he was feeling like some bad move from the fifties. It was almost tempting to just run out into the choppy waves and be taken under, never to return.

He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up his most recent text conversation, it had been with Adrian. Ricky hadn't been expecting to hear from her at all, especially after what had happened the day before, so he thought he was hallucinating when he saw that the text had her name attached to it:

_Hello?_

_Did U make a mistake & accidentally send this 2 the wrong person?_

_Not unless this is someone other than Ricky Underwood._

_What do U want?_

_I want to get together with you, to talk._

_I wanted 2 talk yesterday._

_I wasn't ready._

_Clearly._

_Stop being a dick. I want to meet you, I refuse to talk about this over text or the phone._

_Where?_

_Where we first met, the beach._

_Now?_

_No. At noon. I'll see you in a few hours. Bye._

Ricky read and reread the lines in his head. It was already five minutes past noon and the beach was empty, but he'd had yet to see any trace of Adrian. He wasn't even sure if this was a good idea. After the way she'd treated him and left him out of the loop, he felt bitter and angry in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Ricky!"

The drummer lifted his head and saw her running down the beach. The strain in her voice made her sound breathless. He quickened his pace to get to her, so she didn't have to run as far to get to him. They didn't quite meet in the middle, but it was close enough, and he felt a twinge in his stomach by the way she bent over and placed her hands on her knees to pant. "Are you okay?"

"I'll – I'll be fine," she coughed. "I like to take daily power walks, but I haven't been the last couple weeks, so I guess I'm not in shape." Adrian threw her head back, allowing an obsidian waterfall of hair to drape her shoulders. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Meeting me."

Ricky looked away, suddenly remembering why they were there in the first place. "You've got a lot of explaining to do."

"I don't know what you think I need to tell you, but there's not much to say: I met Ben, we had sex, and the next week I met you and we had sex. Now I'm pregnant. It's as simple as that." Adrian hugged herself as a gust of cold wind rolled by. "And before you say anything else, I want to tell you why I asked you to meet me here today."

Ricky studied her, shivering in the cold. The idea of offering his jacket to her crossed his mind. He reached to pull down the zipper when she began to speak again.

"I'm having the baby."

Ricky's fingers stopping on the zipper. "What does that mean?"

"That means for another seven-ish months, I'm going to be pregnant, balloon up like an elephant, and then I'm going to push a watermelon out of my vagina."

"You know what I meant!" Ricky snapped. "What does that mean for _me_?" He shoved his hands back into his jacket pockets and balled his fists. "And that weasely little _Ben _kid?"

"Only one of you can be the father."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know." He rounded on her. "When are you going to do the paternity test? I want to know as soon as possible!"

"It's not going to be for a while," Adrian replied without looking at him.

"How long? A few weeks? A month?"

"Nobody'll know anything until it's born."

"_What!"_ Ricky grabbed her roughly by the arm, jerking their faces together so that their noses were practically touching. "You can't do that!"

"I can do anything I want!"

"No! If it's my baby – and especially if it's _not_ – I want to know! I'm not going to waste my time for seven more months!"

"Well you don't have a choice!"

"You can get the amniocentesis as early as fourteen weeks!" Ricky screamed.

"I'm not getting an amniocentesis!" Adrian slapped her hands against his chest, shoving him away from her.

"Why the fuck not?"

Adrian absently placed her hand to her belly. "It carries a risk of miscarriage. They stick a fucking needle through my stomach into the womb to take a sample of amniotic fluid, if you didn't know! The puncture can cause a miscarriage and I'm not willing to risk it!"

"You bitch. You bitch! You're just doing this on purpose, aren't you? To keep Ben and I clamoring over you so you can take advantage of his money and my feelings for as long as possible!"

Adrian stopped dead in her tracks. "Your feelings?"

Ricky hesitated. "I didn't mean that-"

"Yeah you did." She raised her finger to his face. "You have feelings for me?"

Ricky refused to meet her face. "Why are you even having this baby anyway? You're not the motherly type. And I'm not the fatherly type! And Ben, he's just a baby himself! Why would you want to ruin your life to have this baby?"

"My mother was a teenage mother," Adrian said slowly. "You think I ruined her life? You think I should've been scraped from her womb and disposed of in a thousand little pieces down a drain?"

"Your twisting my words-"

"But it's the same thing."

"No it's not! And don't to play the guilt card with me, you're more pro-choice than anyone I've ever met, so don't try to pretend that you suddenly care what happens to a fetus during an abortion!"

"You're right," she nodded. "I am pro-choice and I'm choosing to have this baby, just the way I chose to have sex with you."

"And Ben."

"And the way you both chose to have sex with me. I didn't make this decision alone, Ricky, and now we're all going to have to live with it."

"You're not changing your mind?"

"No."

Ricky stopped walking and felt the water rush up around his ankles, soaking his sneakers and the edge of his jeans. "And then what're you going to do after you have it? Are you going to keep it? Or are you going to give it up?"

Adrian shrugged. "I guess that choice depends on what the three of us – or four of us – make in the next seven months, doesn't it?"

Ricky shut his eyes, listening to the thunder of the waves in the background. Seven months, give or take. He wasn't sure if he _could_ take it.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The sound of typing was harsh, each keystroke coming in rapid succession, forced and angry, like a pianist taking out his aggressions through song. Ben sat at his desk, working furiously on an essay for his history class. For a moment, he stopped typing and his eyes fell down to the Internet icon on the corner of the screen. It had a yellow triangle with a black exclamation point on it, signally that the wireless connection was not connected. Ben angrily struck the Enter key and resumed the next paragraph.

A knock sounded a few words before Ben reached the end of the paragraph. "Ben?" his father's voice called. "Ben, I'm coming in."

Ben pushed his chair out from behind his desk and whirled around to face the door as it opened. "What now?" he asked, expecting to see his father, which he did. But from behind his father stepped a familiar Latina and Ben's nerve dissolved. "What're you doing here?"

"Ben!" Leo snapped, his face hard. "That's no way to speak to your guests!"

"It's alright, Mr. Boykewich." Adrian looked as uncomfortable as Ben felt. "This isn't any kind of pleasant or ideal situation for anyone."

"Nevertheless, I – _we_ – appreciate you coming over tonight."

"You don't have to be so kind." Adrian shifted her eyes to Ben. "I'm here tonight to talk about our _situation_. You and your father went out of your way to seek me out about the pregnancy, so I've been making my rounds today as well. As you know, I've been with someone else this year, Ricky Underwood, and so – as hard as it is for me to say this – I don't know who the biological father is." She avoided looking at Leo. "But I've decided that I'm going to have the baby."

Ben felt as if soap had just been thrown in his eyes. "You're keeping it?" he replied rhetorically.

"_Having_ it. Only time will tell whether or not I'll keep it. I don't know, my life is so up in the air right now. Now, I'm not expecting anything from you and your family, I'm just telling you what I've decided to do."

"Ben and I will do everything in our power to support you," Leo assured.

"Well, Ricky will be around too…I hope. I'm not going to ostracize him."

"Of course not," Leo agreed. "He has just as much right as Ben to be involved, until the father can be identified."

"When will that be?" Ben interrupted.

"Not until after the birth. There are paternity test options pre-birth, but they're invasive options, with risks of miscarriage, and I'm not willing to take those risks. I – I'm sorry."

Leo placed his hand on Adrian's shoulder. "You have to do what you believe is best and nobody can fault you for that."

"Well," Adrian sighed, looking at Ben. "They can, but thank you for the sentiment." She shook her head as Leo attempted to respond and cut him off. "Anyway, I have some things I need to do tonight, so I have to go. I…guess I'll be seeing you later." She turned to leave.

"If you need anything – _anything_ at all – don't hesitate to let us know. I believe your mother still has our numbers-"

"She does, that's where I got your address from. Thanks, Mr. Boykewich."

"Call me Leo."

"Thank you, but I prefer Mr. Boykewich." Adrian nodded. "Good night…I can see myself out."

"I –"

"Dad."

Leo turned at the sound of Ben's voice, while Adrian quietly slipped off down the hallway. "You could've been much more polite to her, Benjamin."

"I'm still adjusting too, Dad. I just had a bomb dropped on me and my whole life is going to change now."

"Yes it is."

"So excuse me if I'm hard up for words." Ben spun in his chair, facing his laptop. He closed it and turned back to his father. "I need to talk to Amy."

"Ben-"

"No, listen to me! Amy is my girlfriend and so this effects her life too. I _need_ to talk to her! I don't know what the hell I'm going to say yet, but I have to."

Leo nodded. "Good. She deserves to know the truth." He looked down at his watch. "But not tonight. Tonight I think you just need to think things over for a while and let the implications of what just happened here sink in." He stepped into the hallway. "I'll see you in the morning, good night, son."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

It was a picturesque Sunday morning, with a blue sky and singing birds, like something out of a fairytale. In Ben's opinion, it was Mother Nature having a go at him. Again. Everything inside of him just wanted to abandon the whole reason he'd come to the park and just spend a delightful afternoon with his girlfriend, eating chicken wings and talking about trivial things and maybe even kissing those one of a kind lips.

Amy laughed as she watched him struggle to carrying the giant picnic basket. "Are you sure you don't want my help?" she asked. "We could carry it together, it would be much easier on you."

Ben shook his head. "I'm good. I don't want you to have to share the burden." He forced a smile as they rounded the park fountain. "How about over there?" he asked, nodding to the bench.

"Perfect."

Ben hunched over and dropping the picnic basket in front of the bench. It felt like a million pounds, but it had nothing on the weight that was on his mind. He dropped onto the bench beside Amy with an exhaustive gasp and soaked in the sound of Amy's chuckle, even if it was at his expense. He leaned over again and flipped the top of the basket open and took out a plate of Boykewich Butcher chicken wings, which thankfully, hadn't toppled over in the basket.

"Wh-oa!" Amy gasped. "Wow! Ben, these look amazing!" Her eyes scanned the inner compartment of the basket. "Where are yours?"

Ben smiled sadly. "Someone's in a good mood."

"Well I haven't been out with you in over a week, of course I'm in a good mood!" She snatched up a chicken wing and nibbled on it with unadulterated delight. "What changed your dad's mind?" She moaned as she took another bite. "These are _really_ good, by the way!"

"I'm glad." He rubbed the back of his neck, then reached into the basket and retrieved a bottle of 7-Up and two plastic flute glasses which he set on top of the basket and filled to the brim.

"Seriously, though, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ben pursed his lips and handed her one of the glasses.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" she asked, reaching for another chicken wing.

"Yeah," he sighed. "In a minute." The 7-Up bubbled in the flute glass, entrancing Ben's eyes.

"You okay?"

His eyes returned to her. "With you, I'm always fine." They clinked glasses and he took a sip while watching the various people around the park: a young couple, the man Caucasian and the woman African-American, pushing a young baby girl in a stroller, a little girl and a little boy playing on the other side of the fountain, and an elderly couple walking hand-in-hand down the sidewalk. Gathering all his courage he finally blurted out: "I have to tell you something."

Amy looked a little surprised, but set her glass down and wiped the corners of her mouth with her finger. "Yeah, Ben, of course. You can tell me anything."

Ben nodded, though he felt his eyes tearing up again. "Amy, have you ever made a mistake?"

"I'm not perfect, Ben," she said, almost laughing. "We all make mistakes, don't we?"

"Well, what if I told you that I made a really _big _mistake?"

"What kind of mistake?" Amy touched his knee thoughtfully. "It can't be that bad, can it? You didn't kill anyone or anything, right?"

Ben shook his head, the idea making him laugh nervously. "No, I didn't kill anyone." He bit down on his tongue, then reached across his leg and took Amy's hand, clasping it between his hands. "Remember when you told me about Ricky at band camp?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Well, something similar happened to me over the summer too. But, unlike you, I didn't have the courage to say no. In fact, maybe I even stupidly wanted it...because – because…I don't know. I've never been a guy girls have wanted. Nice guys always finish last, you know? And it felt good to be wanted for once, so – so I…" He closed his eyes. "I had sex."

Amy was silent for a time, then moved her free hand around to Ben's and touched his hands. "It's okay," she said. "I understand. The pressure, the feeling of elation at the idea that someone you never would've thought would be into you seemed into you. I get it, Ben. I understand. And it's not your fault, I don't blame you for it."

Ben felt a couple tears run down his cheeks. Inside, he cursed himself for crying in front of Amy. "I appreciate that, Amy. You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that. But…"

"But what?"

"There's more." Ben swallowed, feeling his Adam's apple vibrate in his throat. "The – the condom broke." He felt her hand stiffen in his. "And she's pregnant." Ben felt the tears run off his chin and splatter onto his pants. "But I don't know if it's mine. She's been with someone else, too."

Amy removed her hand from his, but allowed him to remain clutching the other. "Wh-who?"

"Her name's Adrian," Ben swallowed. "Adrian Lee. She's a majorette. And she's been with-"

"_Ricky."_ Amy pulled her other hand free of Ben's grasp and just stared at him.


	10. Back To School Slut

**A/N: **I understand the title of this chapter may be offensive to some people, but it's not meant to reinforce the usage of the word, but instead to undermine it. Hopefully you'll understand better if you read the chapter. (Note that I have taken a creative liberty here, because a term used in here wasn't widely known until this year, so it's chronologically inaccurate, but I'm changing history for this chapter – isn't that what AU is for – because it's an important point.)

_**Turning Tables**_

**Back To School Slut**

"I'm sorry! Amy, I'm so sorry! I never meant for any of this to happen, it was just a stupid mistake that I regret with my whole heart!" But his words were meant with only silence. Even in her lush brown eyes he couldn't read anything. Suddenly be became aware of a child screaming, the one from the stroller, then a splash alerted him to the fact that one of the two children playing at the fountain had knocked the other one inside and was running off, and the elderly couple were also now fighting. In an instant, he'd made it all go wrong. "Amy, say something to me…_please!_"

"I don't know what to say, Ben. What do you want me to say?"

"Do you hate me?"

Amy piled her hands into her lap. "I don't hate you."

"But you don't want to be my girlfriend anymore?"

"I didn't say that." She shook her head. "I don't know. This is big, Ben. Is she keeping it?" At his nod, Amy's eyes suddenly grew shiny. "You might be a father. That's – I – that's so far beyond my scope of reality, Ben. As much as I like you, and believe me, I like you _a lot_…I don't know if I – I don't know if I can." Amy shook her head, pushing the chicken wings away. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"I understand." Ben returned the chicken wings and the 7-Up bottle to the basket and resumed watching her. "I can't ask you to take on a motherly role at fifteen, just for me. I'm not."

"I know. And it's not that you made a mistake, but fatherhood. And…with Adrian. And _Ricky_." She spat out the latter's name. "I mean, what if you caught something from her? Ricky and Adrian – everyone knows about them-"

He shook his head furiously. "I didn't, I swear! I got tested and I'm clean, I can show you if you want!"

"No. No, if you say you tested clean, then I believe. But, still. I don't know if I can be a part of this. I – I need time."

Ben hugged himself, nodding in spite of the feelings exploding against his ribcage. "How much time?"

"I don't know."

He nodded. "Alright. I'll have my driver take you back home-"

"No," she shook her head. "I'll call someone." Amy rose from the bench. "I need to be alone, to think. But thank you for offering. I'll be fine though, I promise. I'll see you tomorrow."

Again, he responded with a stinging nod of acceptance and watched her walk away. Angrily, he flung his arm out, knocking the flute glasses of champagne off the bench. The bubbles fizzed as the liquid poured out, splashing and soaking into the cement until they were empty, save for a few methodical drips.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Monday morning, Adrian walked slowly through the halls, taking hard, purposeful steps so that the clicks of her heels reverberated everywhere. She was prepared for the stunned silence, the bug eyed stared, the whispery chatter, and the pointed fingers. For on the front of her white shirt, painted in bold red nail polish, were the words: _MOTHER SLUT_.

She reached her locker without any particularly damning incident and opened it up to collect her books and drop in her lunch bag. As she was doing so, she felt a dainty hand on her shoulder and spun around. _"What?"_

"Adrian, I-" Grace's mouth fell open as if she was eating an invisible hot dog. Her eyes were glued to Adrian's chest.

"See something you like?" Adrian asked, enjoying the Christian's horror and shock.

"I – I –" Grace closed her eyes. "Why would you wear something like that? It's so – so-"

"Slutty?" Adrian supplied helpfully.

"_Demeaning!"_

"It's only demeaning when someone else is using the word to put you down, there's a difference."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Sure it does," Adrian replied. "Haven't you ever heard of language reclamation? I wrote a paper on it last year. There are words only certain groups of people can use, are there not? And people wonder why only those groups can use them, but outsiders can't, especially when the language involved has been used to historically demean said groups. Like _slut_ has for women. And the reason is the power dynamics involved. By using the word ourselves, we're reclaiming something that has been used to hurt us: we're taking back that power and defusing it. Haven't you ever heard of Slut Walks?"

"I've heard of Slut Walks before," Grace nodded. "I never knew what they were. I still don't, really. But I thought they involved groups?"

"That's the idea: to get a whole group of women together to walk together and take back the word. It was originally inspired in response to comments by a police official that women shouldn't dress provocatively if they don't want to be raped and then the counter movement followed: 'Accentuating my shape is not an invite to rape.'"

"I…never thought of it that way before."

"Glad to have enlightened you then." Adrian pulled her backpack out and tossed it over her shoulder. "So, I guess you can call this my own little spin on the subject, my Solo Slut Walk if you will. _I'm proud to be a slut._ How about you, Grace?" She watched in delight as the younger girl turned red, highlighted by the bright yellow shirt she wore.

Grace pointed to the word _MOTHER_ on Adrian's shirt. "Adrian," she said slowly, "when you were sick in the bathroom last week – and the week before that with Ricky – is it because, uh, because…"

"Spit it out, Blondie."

"Because you're…_with child_?"

"With child!" Adrian scoffed. "Call it what it is, Grace: _pregnant!_ And yes. Yes!" Adrian took a step into the middle of the hallway and placed her fingers to her mouth, giving off a loud whistle that caught the whole crowd's attention. "I. Am. Pregnant. Everyone hear that? _I'm pregnant!_ And I'm having the baby! Gossip and whisper about me all you want, because I know you will. But also know this: I'm not ashamed! Everyone wants to make everyone feel like lowlife pieces of shit, especially teenage mothers, but I refuse. My mother spent her teenage years as a mother, humiliated and ashamed, and I refuse to repeat history. I'm damn proud to be her daughter, because she went through hell and back to make my life possible. I may have hated her some times and maybe she hated me some days too, but that doesn't change how I ultimately feel. I'm a _mother fucking teenager_ and _I'm_ _proud of it!_ Do with that what you will. I'm out."

At the opposite end of the hall, Ben had walked in, just in time to hear the last of Adrian's speech. The hairs on his neck crept up as Adrian slammed her locker shut and pounded up the stairs, out of sight. As soon as she was gone, the hallway exploded into the gasps and gossip. Ben crept along, listening intently to find out if people knew who the father was. He noticed many boys who looked wide eyed and pale and Ricky's name was brought up over and over, but thankfully, he didn't hear his own name mentioned.

"I cannot believe that just happened."

"She's got guts," Alice said, looking at her boyfriend.

"She's got more than that," Ben muttered, coming up behind them. "Did she mention me? Or Ricky?"

"Nope." Alice closed her locker. "But I guess it's official now: she's keeping the baby."

"_Having_ it," Ben corrected. "There's a difference. She told me Saturday night. And I guess Ricky too."

Henry looked across the hall towards Amy's locker, but Amy wasn't there, nor were Lauren and Madison. "When're you gonna tell-"

"I already did. Yesterday."

"What?" Henry gawked.

"I thought you were still grounded!" Alice added.

"I am. Or was. I don't know, but my dad let me out of the house for that."

"How'd she take it?" Henry whispered, eyes expectantly large.

"Fine, _at first_. When she only thought I wasn't a virgin. But when I told her about Adrian and the baby – and the whole fatherhood debacle – she just sort of…got quiet; said she needed time."

Henry shook his head. "That's not a good sign, man."

"Definitely not," Alice agreed. "Especially since she's not at her usual place to have you walk her horn down to the band room this morning."

"At least she missed the whole spectacle."

"Spectacle?" Alice frowned. "I thought she had a good point. I'm actually, kind of…in awe."

"How can you say that? It's not the whole school's business. Maybe she doesn't mind people talking, but I don't!"

"She never even brought up your name," Alice pointed out. "I'm sure it'll come up eventually, but right now, she's taking all of this on by herself. Nobody even suspects you, Ben."

"Although there's plenty of talk about the drummer," Henry added with a nod.

As if on cue, Ricky showed up out of nowhere, looking rather imposing according to Ben. His face was bent into a way that suggested nobody should even attempt to argue with him and his eyes were set solely on Ben. "We need to talk. In private."

"I don't really have time right now-"

Ricky grabbed Ben by the arm and yanked him into the nearby restroom, where the stalls were empty, but one boy was smoking by the window and another was taking advantage of the urinal, where a photograph of George Bush had been set inside. Ricky smacked the wall, catching the attention of both boys. "Get out."

"Man, can't you see I'm busy?" the one at the urinal replied.

Ricky grabbed the kid, probably a Freshman, by the collar and pulled his shirt taut around his throat. "I said: _get out!_"

The boy's face had turned red by the time Ricky released his grasp and the boy sputtered and coughed as he zipped up his pants before running out the door. Meanwhile, the other boy who was smoking dropped his cigarette and dashed around Ben to avoid Ricky, getting the hell out.

Ricky strode across the bathroom and stepped on the cigarette, crushing the ashes into the floor. Then he turned with a dark face towards Ben. "I'm sure you saw Adrian's little speech in the hallway there?"

Ben nodded, still replaying Ricky's actions with the boy at the urinal. He felt his leg shaking behind his pants. "Yeah?"

Ricky scowled. "Adrian talked to me about everything already, on Saturday."

"Me too." He stared at the black smears of the ashes under the drummer's foot.

"Don't get attached to her," Ricky replied emotionlessly. "Whether or not you're the father, she's not yours. Besides, you already have Amy."

"Had."

"Excuse me?"

"I told her about Adrian and the baby."

"Why would you do that?"

"Well, if I hadn't, she would've found out today anyway!" Ben lowered his voice. "She needed to know. And now, I don't know what's going on with us. She wants time."

"I told you she was a cockblock," Ricky scoffed.

At that, Ben flew across the bathroom and rammed his fist into Ricky's face. "Shut up! She is not!"

Ricky touched his nose to his face and pulled it back, revealing blood smeared across his fingers. He grabbed Ben by his collar and held him up against the wall, then wiped his bloody fingers along Ben's cheek. The latter gasped and a moment later, Ricky landed a punch into Ben's eye.

Ben crumpled to the floor of the bathroom, sitting on the ashes of the cigarette and holding his eye, moaning. "Fuck you."

"What did you just say?"

Ben looked up, no regret in his eyes. "Fuck. You. Do I need to say it again? Fuck you! You can do whatever the hell you want to me, but it'll only prove my point. You're a bastard and I'm glad Amy turned your ass down, otherwise she might be the one everyone's talking about in the hallway right now!" He saw Ricky curl his fist again and closed his eyes – painfully – and prepared to be hit again. But it never came.

"Just stay away from Adrian."

"I have rights to you know!"

"If she wants you involved, she'll let you know."

"Yeah, and the same applies to you!" But Ben's words were only met with the slam of the bathroom door. Ben continued to sit there in silence until he heard the bell ring and then he pulled himself up and looked into the mirror. Everything around his eye had swollen up like an allergic reaction, Ricky's blood was vibrantly smeared across his face like tribal paint, and his eyeball looked like a demon's straight out of a horror movie all red with broken blood vessels.

Ben gripped the sides of the sink and imagined himself transforming with his rage into something that could beat Ricky into a bloody pulp, like The Hulk. He hated the drummer more than he'd ever hated anyone in his entire life. "He can't tell me what to do," he said, staring at his almost unrecognizable reflection. "I run my life. _I run my life!_"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"This smells awful," Ben groaned, three hours after school. He was in his room, sprawled out on his bed with a raw steak over his eye.

"Contrary to what you see in the movies, there's actually no evidence that putting raw meat on a black eye helps it to heal any faster," Alice informed her friend from the foot of his bed. "In fact, it can actually cause infection if bacteria from the raw meat gets into any open lecerations."

"Oh, fantastic!" Ben answered with one-hundred percent sarcasm. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Like, when my dad brought in a new steak?"

"Your dad just allowed us to see you for the first time again today," Alice shrugged.

Henry nodded. "We didn't wanna piss him off."

"At my expense." Ben lugged the slab of dense meat off his face and tossed it onto a plate that was sitting on his pillow. Groaning, he peeled off the bed and wandered into the bathroom where he began to wash his face with cold water.

"I can't believe Ricky slugged you. You look like an alien."

"Thanks, Henry. That's just what I wanted to hear." Ben pulled out the peroxide and a bag of cotton balls. He soaked a couple with the liquid and began to dab them around his black eye. "At least I made his nose bleed. I've never hit anyone before."

"You're lucky he didn't make mincemeat of you."

Ben poked his head out of the bathroom, glaring. "Not funny. Not even cute."

Alice glanced at the steak on the plate. "No pun intended."

Henry snickered. "It was a little funny."

"So have you heard from Amy?"

"I didn't see her at school at all today, I guess she stayed home. I did see Madison and Lauren at lunch, though, but as soon as they caught me looking, they tore off in the other direction."

"Boy, she's gonna be in for a surprise when she sees you tomorrow."

"If she even shows up tomorrow."

"Did you talk to Adrian?" Alice asked.

"Nope." Ben tossed the wet cotton balls into the trash and proceeded to pull out a washcloth from the cabinet, wet it with cold water, and folded it onto his eye. "It's too bad I didn't break his nose. The worse that's going to come out of that is that maybe it might be swollen for a year days, whereas I'm going to be sporting this for who knows how long!"

"Shouldn't of punched him," Alice replied simply, without looking up from her laptop.

A tentative knock sounded at the door. "Ben?"

Ben sprang up from the bed and scampered over to the door, opening it slightly, so that only the good side of his face was visible. "Amy! What are you doing here?" He couldn't see his friends out of the corner of his black eye, but given how well he knew them, he figured they were exchanging nervous looks right about then.

"I came over as soon as I heard about your eye!" She attempted to lean in. "Can I come in?"

Ben deflated and opened the door, showing her the washcloth on his eye. "It doesn't look pretty."

Amy reached up slightly, her hands brushing his, and pulled back the washcloth to reveal the full extent of the damage. She winced. "Oh, Ben…"

Alice grabbed Henry's hand and yanked him up. "We should probably go."

"You don't have to do that," Amy objected.

"Yeah," Henry agreed. "We don't have to-"

Alice dug her nails into Henry's hand and forced a smile.

"Yeah, she's right!" Henry suddenly yelped. "We'll see you later, Ben. Nice seeing you again too, Amy."

"Bye, Amy."

Amy scuffed her heels together as Alice closed the door. "I'm sorry about your eye."

"It's not your fault." Ben sat down on the edge of the bed. "He was insulting you again, so I just slugged him."

"So then it_ is_ my fault?"

"You weren't the one who threw the punch."

"Yeah," Amy agreed. "But it was in my honor." She smiled shyly and sat down beside Ben, placing her hand on his. "Thanks, for that."

"I missed you at school today."

"I wasn't ready to see you." Amy closed her eyes. "But if I'd known everything I was going to miss, maybe I would've come." She chewed her lip. "Did Adrian really announce she was pregnant to the whole school in the hallway?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Amy swung her legs back and forth. "So I've been thinking a lot about things. And…I do want to be there for you."

"You do?" he chirped.

"Yes, but I don't know about _us_ yet. I'm still really torn on that. But I want to be your friend and I want to be there to support you and be a shoulder to cry on, so to speak. Is that okay with you?"

"Well, I obviously wish it was more than that, but…I'll take what I can get. I don't want you out of my life, especially not over this. That might just do me in."

Amy slid her hand around Ben's and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You're going to get through this, Ben Boykewich. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that."

"Your faith in me means so much, it makes me feel strong." Amy leaned her head on his shoulder and, despite the pain, Ben craned his neck to rest his head on top of hers.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian placed her hand on the heavy double door Tuesday morning, mentally and physically braced herself, and then stepped inside, ready for the next round of whispers and looks. To her shock, she realized that several girls up and down the hall were wearing t-shirts – mostly white, but some in other colors, like yellow or pink – word the words _SLUT_ written or painted onto them.

"Morning, Adrian." Grace stopped in front of her and smiled her most dazzling smile, then she peeled off her sweat jacket to reveal that she was wearing a pastel pink t-shirt with the words _PROUD TO BE A VIRGIN SLUT_ on the front in purple glitter ink.

"Did _you_ do this?"

"I did send out a couple of text and e-mail chains, yes, but I think that your speech in the hallway yesterday was also a large part. You're right, Adrian, and I thought that it would be good to organize our own Slut Walk through the school. I thought it could incorporate a lot of things. Not just an anti-rape message, but it can show support for all kinds of different women: teen mothers and virgins and girls who are proud of their bodies and…everything. All of us."

Adrian blinked once, then twice. She was surprised that she actually felt like crying, not for shame or embarrassment, but because the gesture was so thoughtfully touching. She touched the corner of her eye with her fingertip. "I can't believe you did this," she squeaked.

Grace beamed as several more girls walked into the hallway, some carrying signs, some proudly showing off their _SLUT_ shirts, and some doing both. "So would you do us the honor of leading Grant High in our first official Slut Walk?"

Adrian swallowed, feeling a tingling at the back of her throat. She nodded to keep the croak of a cry escaping. "Y – yeah. Yes." She stood up as straight as she could. Then, clearing her throat she announced, "I'm Adrian Lee, I'm pregnant, and I'm proud to be a Mother Slut."

Grace clapped her hands together in a round of applause, which was soon picked up by the other young women in the hallway. The cheerleader took position behind Adrian and announced, "My name's Grace Bowman and I'm proud to be a Virgin Slut!"

Adrian nodded and placed her hands together, joining the rest of her female peers in the hallway as they clapped for Grace. One by one, she watched as other young women professed their own version of their Slut Status and Adrian joined the applause for them as they slipped into the congregation behind her. When everyone in the hallway had spoken their peace, Adrian took a step forward. And another. The footsteps behind her sounded like thunder as she picked up pace, marching down the hallway, picking up and people as she went along.


	11. Just Say Yes

**A/N: **Halfway point! (Well, technically it's an odd numbered first season, but still, this was the "mid-season finale.") Of course I'm not going to make you wait that long for the next chapter/episode.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Just Say Yes**

"Come on, Grace. Say it. Just say you'll go out with me again. I'm not with Madison anymore, okay? That's over and in the past."

Adrian yawned, tired of listening to Jack's pleading. She shut her locker door and walked up behind Grace, catching the jock's attention. She placed a hand on Grace's shoulder and pushed the cheerleader behind her. "I think Grace has made it pretty clear she doesn't want anything to do with your pathetic ass. Just accept that and move on, Pappas."

"This is between me and Grace, Adrian. It's none of your business."

"Oh?" she smirked. "You were certainly singing a different tune a month ago when you came over to my condo propositioning me to have sex with you in order to make Grace and Ricky jealous. It wasn't 'none of my business' then…even after I turned you down and then you just began begging me for sex for the hell of it."

Grace's jaw dropped. "I can't believe you, Jack Pappas! You're – you're _horrible!_"

Jack grit his teeth. "Thanks a lot, Adrian!"

Adrian flipped her hair over her shoulder in satisfaction as she watched the jock disappear down the hallway. "Asshole."

"Thanks, Adrian," Grace said, her face caught somewhere between gratefulness and a scowl. "Sometimes I feel like he's stalking me, he just won't leave me alone."

"Maybe it's time you get a new boyfriend?"

Grace shrugged. "I haven't really been into anyone."

"Except Ricky."

"Well," Grace blushed, "yeah. But…" She motioned her hand at the majorette. "I can't exactly do that to a friend. Especially when he might be the father of your baby. It's just too complicated."

"Tell me about it." Adrian touched her belly, hidden behind the flowy fabric of a new baby doll top that George had bought her after learning of her pregnancy.

"So how are things going with you, Ben, and Ricky?" Grace asked casually, following behind Adrian like a puppy. "The last couple weeks have been a little hectic and I haven't really gotten to talk to you much since the Slut Walk."

"They're going," Adrian said simply. "Not very well, but they're going. Ricky still wants me to get the amniocentesis and he's got Ben all hyped on the idea too, but that's just not going to happen." She shrugged. "I'm going to have my first doctor's appointment after school today."

"Really!"

"Don't act so chipper, it's just a sonogram. It's not like I'm learning the sex of the baby or anything."

"But still, that's so amazing, Adrian! I mean, you're going to get to hear the heartbeat, right?" Grace clasped her hands together appearing as if she might drop into a prayer. "Oh, that's so exciting! You have to tell me how it goes! Please? _Please?_"

Adrian rolled her eyes. "Is this what all you cheerleaders are like?" She shook her head, still not entirely sold on the whole friends-with-Grace Bowman idea, but she had to admit, her school life had gotten better – and more social – since Grace had organized the Slut Walk, so she had to give the blonde some credit. "It's really nothing," she went on. "Just a routine thing." But at the sight of Grace's longing puppy face, she finally gave in. "Fine! I'll give you a call later. Maybe."

"Oh!" Grace began to bounce up and down. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Are Ben and Ricky going with you?"

"You're kidding, right?" Adrian frowned. "You're not. Of course you're not." Sometimes she couldn't believe how dense the girl could be. "Don't you think that would be just a wee–" she pinched held her index finger barely above her thumb and pushed them into Grace's face "–bit awkward? No way am I taking them. I'm not sure I'd even take one of them if I did know who the father was!"

"Then who are you going with?"

"My mother's taking me. Her flight lands in," Adrian glanced at her cell phone, "an hour, so I'm meeting her after school and we're going."

Grace clapped her hands together. "I'm so excited for you!"

"Clearly."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ricky!" Margaret's voice called from the other side of the door, followed by a stern knock. "Are you up yet? You're going to be late for school if you don't leave soon!" The door knob twisted and opened, revealing Ricky's foster mother.

"I was up and showered hours ago, before you and Dad even got up." Ricky was seated at his computer, eyes glued to the screen.

"Something wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"What're you up to?" Margaret walked up behind her son and examined what he was watching on screen.

"It's a sonogram. Someone uploaded one to YouTube. I've been looking at them all morning."

"Oh?"

Ricky sighed. "Adrian's having her first sonogram today."

"And are you going?"

"I wasn't invited. Why would I be? She doesn't even know who the father is." He paused the video. "I guess it doesn't matter anyway," he sighed, exiting the screen.

"I'm glad to see you're excited about the baby."

"Who said I was excited? I just wanted to know how a sonogram works, it's not like I've ever seen one before and probably never will, not in real life anyway."

"I'm sure that when you're ready – if you're ready – and you find the right girl in your distant future, you will end up getting to see a sonogram in person."

Ricky shook his head. "No. Adrian's baby isn't mine, I'm never having kids. If it is, I'm never having anymore."

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous."

"Ricky." Margaret sighed and took a seat on the edge of his bed. "You know as well as I do that everything that happened between you and your father-"

"Bob is not my father. I know who my father is, he's a doctor and he's married to you. Bob is the one who abused me and he's in prison. He's evil."

"And you're not. And you can't pass that down to your child."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know. I know you, Ricky. That's not who you are. You may not always do the right thing, but you're a good young man at heart. You _nothing_ like Bob Underwood and you could never be, even if you tried." She patted him on the knees. "Now turn off that computer, you're going to be late!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"So has your dad come home yet?" Ben inquired as they stood by the band room.

"No." Amy tucked her hair behind her ear. "But I talked to him on the phone last night. Says he's gonna be home soon; said he loves me, then asked to speak with Ashley."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Ashley's convinced he's cheating on her."

Ben's eyed bulged. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. It's all circumstantial, but…she does raise from pretty good points. I just – I can't understand that, though, can you? I can't fathom how people can cheat on the person they supposedly love. And him and my mom, they've always been _so_ in love!"

Ben wrapped his arms around her for the first time in weeks to hug her and was surprised when she returned the gesture. "I don't understand that either. Do you think they fell out of love? Or your dad did? Not that I'm justifying him or anything."

Amy shook her head. "I don't know. I guess I won't know anything until he gets back, so I can confront him about it in person." She looked up as the bell rang. "I guess we'd better get going." She squeezed his hand. "Good luck with the sonogram!"

Ben watched her run off towards the stairs and looked down at the hand she'd just touched. He touched his fingers to his palm and imagined Amy was still handing it. "Yeah, the sonogram." He hurried down the hall to his first class, but his mind couldn't focus on anything the teacher was scrolling across the board. It was too unbelievable to believe that Adrian was already ten weeks pregnant. Two-and-a-half months!

The pregnancy this, the pregnancy that. It was all anyone seemed to talk about anymore, whether it was at school in the hallways, or at home with his dad or hanging out with Alice and Henry or even when he was studying with Amy. Pregnancy, pregnancy, pregnancy! It just made him feel more nervous and insecure than anything.

"Mr. Boykewich? Did you hear me?"

Ben snapped out of reverie and shook his head at the teacher's scowl. "Sorry, I didn't-"

"Obviously. I asked you if you would read the next section allowed, but since you don't even have your book out-"

"Right, sorry!" Ben bumbled into his bag, yanking out his course book and scrambled to find the correct page.

"You can stay after class, Mr. Boykewich."

Ben slumped back into his seat and opened his book to a random page, cursing the woman on the inside.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Oh god!" Adrian thrust her hand over her eyes and turned away from the sight of George standing in the living room, wearing only a bath towel wrapped around his waist.

George scampered back into the hallway to hide behind the wall, with only his head poking around corner. "What are you doing here?" he yelped. "I thought you were going to some appointment after school!"

"Yeah, but my mom is going with me! She was going to drive-" Adrian stopped mid sentence when she saw the fallen look on George's face. "What? What are you making that face for?"

"Adrian, your mom's not here."

"Excuse me?"

George looked guilty. "She left a message on my cell earlier, she said there was some unexpected layover in Boston. I'm sorry, Adrian. I thought you knew."

"No!" Adrian punched the back of the couch. "Of course I didn't know! I forgot to charge my phone last night, it died at lunchtime." She yanked her dead cell from her purse and ran past George into her room, plugged it into her charger, and scrambled to turn it on. As soon as the screen lit up, it informed her of a new message. Adrian placed her phone to her ear and whimpered as she heard her mother's voice on the other end.

"Adrian, sweetie, it's me. I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but there's been a problem at the airport. The plane needed repair, so there they called for a last minute layover. I'm so sorry, _Chica_, but I won't be able to make it to make it to the sonogram today."

Adrian closed her eyes. It sounded as if her mother's voice was breaking at the end and it only fueled the frustration she was already feeling in her chest. She threw her phone onto the bed. "Damnit!" she screamed, her voice shattering.

George peeked into the room, this time dressed in pants and a blue t-shirt. "I'm sorry, Adrian."

"Leave me alone," Adrian whimpered, feeling tears sting her eyes.

George moved across the floor and hugged her, despite her struggling against him. "I know how important it is to need someone at your first sonogram."

"You don't know anything." She shook George off her and crawled onto her bed. "Just leave me alone, okay? You're not my father, so you don't have any business comforting me. Hell, you have no business comforting your own two daughters while you're over here sleeping in my mother's bed while you're still married to your wife!"

George pointed his finger at her. "Hey!" he scolded. "Don't act all high and mighty with me. You're not Little Miss Perfect yourself, you know!"

"I've got two possible baby daddies, so yeah, I know I'm not perfect! Unlike your Precious Little Amy!" Adrian waved her arm. "Just get out, George! Get out and leave me the hell alone!" She felt a twinge of regret as George left her room with his proverbial tail between his legs, but she felt that overall, he deserved it. Adrian glanced at the clock and noted the time, an hour before her appointment. "What am I supposed to do now? Cancel?"

She hopped off her bed and moved to the study desk, which George had installed in her room the week before, and turned on her laptop. When the Google screen came up, she searched for the online white pages. A few minutes later, she returned to her bed and dialed in a number. It rang three times before an unfamiliar voice picked up.

"Bowman household, Kathleen speaking."

"Mrs. Bowman?"

"This is she. May I ask who I'm speaking to?"

"A-Adrian. Adrian Lee. I was wondering if Grace was home?"

"Adrian," Mrs. Bowman said delightedly. "How are you? Grace has been talking about you."

Adrian swallowed back the funny feeling in her throat. "Fine, thank you."

"That's wonderful. Hold on a second, I'll go get Grace."

Adrian laid back in her bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Adrian?"

"Grace, hi."

"Hi! I wasn't expecting to hear from you, is something wrong?"

"Uh, yeah. My mom, she's not back yet, apparently something went wrong with the plane and-"

"Oh no! That's terrible, did you have to reschedule?"

"Well, no. That's what I was calling about, actually. I was wondering if – if maybe…you could go with me?"

"You don't have anyone else?"

"If you don't want to, that's fine-"

"No! I'm not saying that at all, of course I'd love to go with you! I was just making sure you didn't have any other family that you might want to come more."

"It's just my mom and I."

"I'd be honored to come! I'm so glad you thought of me!"

Adrian shut her eyes, beginning to regret the idea. Grace was a good person, overall, but her peppiness could get grating far too easily. She could practically see Grace grinning on the other end of the line; could almost hear the exclamation points in her voice. "Great," she said finally. "I'll pick you up then, what's your address?" Adrian scribbled down the address as Grace rattled it off.

"Oh, I can't wait!"

"Yeah, thanks Grace. I'll see you soon. Bye." She hung up before the blonde could say goodbye.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Amy walked into her living room with a tray containing two turkey and provolone sandwiches and a couple of apple juice boxes. She slid it onto the table in front of Ben, who was hunched over his mathematics textbook. "It's just regular old lunch meat, not your dad's. We ran out and my mom has been on a tight budget, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Ben picked up a sandwich and nibbled it. "Thanks. Thanks for everything; for being such an amazing friend, even if that's _only_ what we are to each other right now."

"It's just better that way. For me. I know it's not fair to you, because all of this happened before we ever even knew each other, but it still effects me, you know? I can understand why you and Adrian…happened. I mean, it could have just as easily been me and Ricky, but, _still_."

Ben punched the straw into his juice box and drank it in one go, then returned to eating the sandwich Amy had prepared for him.

"Are you alright?"

"What would make you think otherwise?"

"You're scarfing. You tend to scarf when you're upset."

"I do not."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Yes you do!" She scooted closer to him and leaned over to inspect his math problems. "Math troubles?"

"Not unless it's probability of whether or not I'm the father of Adrian's baby. That one I just can't figure out."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about Adrian and the baby?"

"I don't."

"Well, Ben, _you're_ the one who keeps bringing it up."

"I am?" Ben set his empty plate on the table and looked at Amy. "Remember when you asked me about what I envisioned my future like?"

"I believe you asked me first, but yeah. Why?"

"I think maybe I was wrong. I think maybe I always figured I'd fall into your typical mold: finish high school, maybe go to college, meet The One, fall in love, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. I love kids, you know. Just not in high school."

"Do you want this baby, Ben? Are you hoping it's yours?"

"No. Of course not. But, I don't know. If it is mine, do you think I could do it? Be a good father I mean?"

"I think the fact that you're thinking about these things at all is already a sign of a good father. Some – especially teens – don't even give a crap."

Without saying anything, Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. For the first time since they'd met, he typed up a simple text message to Adrian Lee and hit Send.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian lifted her fingers to her lips, staring in awe at the sonogram screen.

"Oh my God!" Grace gasped. She looked ten seconds from imploding, with the size of her smile tracking the countdown. The blonde hopped around the bed and pushed her face to the screen, pointing to the wriggling form in the middle. "Look at it!" she squealed. "That's your baby, Adrian! A real life mini person growing inside your belly!"

"Womb, not belly," Adrian corrected. But she, too, couldn't wipe the ridiculous smile off her way. Then a sound started to pulsate from the speakers as the doctor maneuvered the dials. "Is that…" She waited, looking expectantly at the doctor.

"Yes," she confirmed. "That's the heartbeat."

Adrian shut her eyes, allowing the sound of her child's heartbeat to reverberate off her eardrums. "I can't believe it."

"The miracle of life!" Grace gushed. She bounced over to Adrian's side and touched her arm. "Oh, Adrian! How can I thank you? This is one of the best experiences of my life! This is just…" She looked up at the ceiling. "God's work in action!"

"To start with, stop talking about God would be helpful. And second, quiet." She lifted her finger to her lips. "I'm trying to listen."

Grace tilted her head back and forth while zipping an imaginary zipper across her lips and throwing away the key. She bounced up and down a little more.

"Are we able to get pictures?" Adrian asked, still staring at the monitor. "My mom was supposed to be with me today, but she couldn't make it."

"Of course," the doctor smiled. "How many do you need?"

"Just one." Then, as an afterthought she added. "Or, maybe, three?"

"Three?"

Adrian nodded. "Yeah, three should do it."

"Alright then," she nodded. "I'll be right back."

Adrian returned her eyes to the monitor. It was amazing how much she could see at only ten weeks: clearly a head and body and itsy bitsy little limbs, even if the image as a whole did look a bit like a miniature Roswellian. "But that's my little Roswell," she whispered, eyes gleaming. "You're all mine."


	12. The Secret Divorce Of The American Adult

**A/N: **Oh, and I forgot to mention on the last chapter, but I'm glad the concept of the Slut Walk went over well. I felt it was a good combination of the original episode and Adrian's version of the speech in season three, but I liked that the actual Slut Walk movement added more weight to things than just the march at the end of the original "Back To School Special."

_**Turning Tables**_

**The Secret Divorce Of The American Adult**

The sun hadn't even had a chance to rise yet, but Adrian was wide awake with an insatiable craving for candy canes. And the need to pee. She blamed the former partly on the fact that she was already into her second trimester and cravings were becoming a nuisance and partly on the fact that it was already January and the holiday themed foods were on clearance everywhere, pervading her dreams like sugar ants.

Adrian passed her mother's bedroom on the way to the bathroom. The plumber had been called three days ago, but had cancelled twice, so the toilet in her room was currently out of order. Unfortunately for the sixteen-year-old, that meant she had to hear the thrusts and groans and giggles coming from the other side of the door.

"George!" Cindy's voice squealed, followed by a thud. "Stop it!"

"Come on, baby!" George whined. "You know you love it when we do that!"

Adrian cringed and ducked into the bathroom, wanting to forget everything she'd just heard. George had become a regular in their household, which, as far as Adrian was concerned, was far too small for three people, let alone with a fourth on the way. She emptied her bladder with a sigh of relief and washed her hands, then growled when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Since the second trimester had started, the antagonizing morning sickness had been replaced with acne outbreaks. "Stupid hormones!"

The hand towel was within reach so she tugged it down and used it to wash her face up, then hung it back up to dry. Her mother wouldn't be please when she found it, "But so what? I'm pregnant and I'm sixteen and I'm cranky and I'm hungry and I have no patience. It's a lethal combination." She figured her mother would have to understand, after all, she too, had once been a hormonal pregnant teen.

In the kitchen the Latina found a plate of white chip pancakes wrapped in plastic, which George had prepared the day before. Some of them were a little overdone and white chip certainly wasn't Adrian's favorite, but it was better than nothing, so she tossed the plate into the microwave and began to heat them up.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Holy shit! That was _amazing!_" The words belonged to a slinky girl with an oval face and hair the color of a stop sign. She rolled over and trailed her fingernail down the center of Ricky's chest. "I think that's the best sex I've ever had with someone, care to go for round two?"

Ricky threw his covers off and pulled on his boxers without answering. His face was stony as he got up and began to search for his shirt.

"Please don't tell me you're one of those guys who has to have a cigarette after every go. I hate the smell of cigarette smoke."

"Why don't you do yourself a favor and just stop talking?"

The redhead sat up with a pouty scowl. "What's your problem?"

"You are."

"We just had _amazing_ sex and I'm your problem?"

"We had sex," Ricky corrected. "And you were…below average."

"Excuse me!"

Ricky pulled his shirt off the floor, turned it right side out, and slid it on. "I've got things to take care of this morning," he said while pulling on his jeans. "I can see myself out." He dodged a flying hairbrush as he was putting on his shoes and socks and promptly left, slamming the girl's bedroom door on the way out.

When Ricky got out to his car, the sky was barely becoming alight with the sunrise and his car was frigid. He ignited the engine and flicked on the heater, then, while waiting for the car to warm up, he opened his glove box and pulled out a small white envelope. From inside he retrieved a small black and white sonogram picture, one that Adrian had given him two months prior. He hit the steering wheel in frustration, sending a howling honk through the silent neighbor, no doubt waking several people up, but he didn't care. There were very few things that he did seem to care about these days.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Oh my god!"

"What the hell!"

"Get the fire extinguisher!"

Adrian stumbled down the hall at the sound of George's and her mother's voices, only to encounter the toxic smell of charcoal long before she ran into a suffocating haze of gray smoke. She immediately shoved her hand over her mouth, coughing and sputtering, unable to see a thing for several minutes, until the smoke began to lift.

"Adrian!" Cindy gasped, running to the latter's side. "Thank goodness you're okay!"

"Wha-t hap-pened?" Adrian coughed.

George stepped in from the back porch, waving his hands at a cloud of smoke and quickly shutting the door. "Put something in the microwave?" he asked, glancing at the teen.

"Pancakes," she answered. "But only for a minute."

"Try ten."

"What?"

George pointed to the microwave, which was still smoking. It had been paused on its countdown at three minutes and forty-eight seconds. "You must've hit an extra zero by mistake." He coughed and waved his hand around. The fan above the oven was on and the front door was open to pull the smoke out, while a cloud of smoke could still be seen rising from the charred pancakes on the ground outside of the glass slider. "I'm just glad we're all fine. Except for maybe the microwave." He opened the door, revealing burn marks all scarring the inside.

"This smell is going to take forever to rid the apartment of."

"We should probably get out for a while," George suggested. "It can't be good to be breathing all this in."

Adrian frowned. "You might want to, uh, put some clothes on first." She'd only just then realized that her mother was wrapped in her forest green bed sheet, while George had nothing on but his boxers. "You're creepin' me out enough as it is."

Cindy's face flushed. "Yeah, I'll be right back…"

Adrian watched her mother vanish back to her room and then turned to George, trying to avoid allowing her eyes to look at anything other than his face. "Thanks for putting that out by the way," she said sheepishly.

George wiggled his finger at the smoke alarm. "Guess we should probably get those looked at too, huh? Gotta look at the bright side: this may smell horrible, but at least nobody was hurt and it did bring an important issue to our attention."

"I'm more of a glass-half-empty person myself, but whatever floats your boat." She pointed to the hall. "I'm gonna go get dressed now, I suggest you do the same."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben clutched his chest as he ran down the sidewalk. Oh how he despised running! But for her, he would. "Amy!" Even at a distance, he could see the back of her glossy brown hair from the bench, the same bench in front of the fountain, where he'd told her about Adrian and the baby.

Amy turned around at the sound of his face. She was shaking when he got to her, face streaked with tears. "B-B-en," she choked. Her eyes were scrunched into little slits and she was practically swallowing giant gulps of the cold January air.

Ben immediately slid off his jacket and shouldered her with it, then wrapped his arms around her as extra comfort, pulling her close. "I came as soon as I…as I got your text message," he said breathlessly. "What's the - the matter?"

Amy shook her head into Ben's shoulder, still sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Ben. I shouldn't have texted you."

"It's okay," he assured. "You know you can text me any time. I'm here for you, Amy. You've been here for me for the last couple months with the pregnancy and it's my turn to be here for you."

Amy shook her head. "It's not that," she cried. "It's that I'm being selfish, I don't want to put you in a bad position. It's already strained enough as it is."

"What're you talking about?"

Amy shook her head and stared straight forward at the fountain. It wasn't running this time of year. "Never mind."

"No, you called me here for a reason."

"Because you're the only one who I wanted to talk to. I mean, I could talk to Lauren or Madison, but…they wouldn't understand, they wouldn't be there for me the way you are." Amy pulled a tattered tissue from her pocket and wiped her dripping red nose and leaking eyes.

"Then tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is, I can take it."

"You really wanna know?"

Ben nodded.

"I hate her. I _hate_ her, Ben. I really do. Her _and_ her mother!"

"Her who?"

"Adrian!"

Ben blanched. Despite a rough start, things between him, Adrian, and Ricky had finally fallen into a rhythm that he convinced himself he was able to live with for the remainder of the pregnancy. "What happened?"

"It's my dad," she whispered. "I found out who he's been cheating on my mom with…where he's been staying since he left her: with Cindy Lee."

"What? No! That can't be, how can that be? I would've known if-"

"How many times do you ever go over to Adrian's apartment?"

Ben shrugged. "I've only been there…two or three times."

Amy nodded. "Easy enough for him not be around."

Ben hugged her again. "How did you find out?"

"I was up early this morning. Actually, I'd been up all night, working on this English essay that's a third of my overall grade. And so I went downstairs to get something to eat and I heard my mom talking to Mimsy." In response to Ben's confusion she clarified, "My grandmother." She sniffed. "She sounded like she'd been crying, then I heard her utter the words 'divorce' and 'cheating slime ball.' I know I shouldn't have done it, but I went back upstairs and picked up the other line to listen. Turns out she's been following him when Ashley and I have been at school, taking pictures and whatnot, and he's been living at Adrian's."

"This is insane!"

"You know, somewhere deep in my heart, I knew that after he came back from his supposed business trip and moved out that she was right about the affair, but I never could've guessed that it was with Adrian's mother. That just takes it to a whole new level. If it was someone I didn't know – or know of, in this case – it wouldn't have the same weight in my head, but it's not. It's Adrian! She already managed to dig her claws into you, Ben, and now her mother has taken my dad away from me too."

"Adrian didn't take me away from you, she couldn't. I'm here with you right now, aren't I?"

"As my _friend_. But she still ruined the relationship we had."

"Amy, that's not fair. You said that you wanted space, remember?"

"Yeah, but if she hadn't seduced you, I wouldn't have needed the space in the first place and we'd be happy right now."

Ben shook his head. "You're just saying that because you're upset about your dad and Cindy." He tried to hug her, but she pushed him away.

"No I'm not! God! I'm so stupid, I should have never told you anything in the first place! I don't know what I was thinking." Amy turned away from him and began to cry again. "I wasn't thinking. I was just acting on the fact that I needed someone. But now I've gone and hurt us both. Just go, Ben. I'm sorry I even bothered you, it's not fair. I just need to deal with this by myself."

"Don't be like that-"

"Don't. Please don't. Just leave. I don't want to talk anymore. This was a stupid, selfish idea on my part."

Ben moved his hand to touch her, but stopped himself short. "I wish I could take it all back," he whispered. "I wish I could take back all the pain I've caused you. And your father. If there was a way for me to wipe it all clean, I would."

"But there's not and that's the whole point."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Say _cheater!_"

Adrian stepped out of the door just in time to be blinded by the flash of light that preceded an unfamiliar female voice. She stopped in her tracks, blinking as her eyes adjusted, and then realized she was staring at her mother and George, frozen with their arms around one another, as a vengeful looking redhead pointed a camera at them.

"Did you think you could keep this up forever, George?"

Puzzled, Adrian turned to Cindy. "Mom?"

"Do you two have anything to say for yourselves?"

"Who is this?" Adrian demanded.

The redhead turned a pair of wild eyes on Adrian. "I don't think we've been introduced: I'm Anne. Anne _Juergens_, George's _wife_." Anne looked Adrian up and down. "And you must be Adrian. I've heard a lot about you. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I see."

Adrian curled her fist. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

George quickly stepped between their lines of sight. "Ladies, ladies!" he laughed nervously. "Let's not say or do anything we're going to regret here, okay? Anne, come on, we'll go talk-"

"No, I'm done talking, George. You've played me like the fool that I am," she clapped to emphasize herself, "so good on you. But now I've played you too." She reached into the sack on her shoulder and shoved a thick padded yellow envelope at him. "Don't worry, I've got the originals, so you can have those. You can think about those while you're signing these." Next, she handed him a manila folder from her sack. "If you see anything in those papers that you feel fit to disagree with, just refer back to that envelope, okay?" With a scornful look at Cindy, Anne turned on her heel and left the hallway.

George swallowed uneasily as he looked at Cindy. The look on his face made it clear he had no idea what to say or if he should say anything at all for that matter.

Cindy moved to Adrian's side and pulled her daughter into the crook of her curves. "You know what, George. Maybe Adrian and I should just get away for the afternoon while you…handle whatever you need to handle."

"Yeah," he agreed solemnly. He disappeared back into the smoky condo without protest.

Adrian jerked away from her mother. "I don't understand you. Why do you always have to go for the married men, huh?"

Cindy raised a warning finger. "Don't you dare use that tone with me, Adrian! _¡Que no son perfectos y no soy ni yo!_"

"_¡Y a veces me gustaría no era tanto como quieras!"_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Where have you been all night?" Margaret demanded as soon as her foster son came through the door.

Ricky bypassed her. "I had a couple of prior engagements."

"This has to stop!" Margaret warned, stepping into Ricky's path. "You have a baby on the way, you can't just continue to go out and have sex whenever you're feeling upset with your life."

"_Might_ have a baby on the way. And yes, I can. Some people do drugs, some people suffer silently, and me? I have sex. I deal. As long as I can juggle it all, why should you care anyway? It's not like I'm out there getting high and or drunk."

"No, you're out there risking sexually transmitted diseases and creating life, it's just as dangerous in its own way! I'm so disappointed in you right now, Ricky. I know you're better than this."

Ricky flinched. Margaret was one of the few people in his life that he wanted to have respect from. For all intents and purposes, she was his mother, and to have her saying she was disappointed in him felt like a butcher blade to his gut.

"I think you need a little less free time if this is how you're going to spend it, Ricky."

"What? You're grounding me then?"

Margaret picked up the morning paper and shoved it into his arms. "No, I'm telling you to take your cold shower and then begin looking in the classifieds: you're getting a job."

Ricky's hands trembled as he held the paper. Truth be told, he had considered the possibility for a while, but then that nagging thought that Ben was the real father reared its ugly head again, and it made him disgusted with the idea of trying to support Adrian and someone else's child with his hard earned money, so the idea had been abandon.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I don't want to fight with you anymore, Adrian." Cindy looked into her cup of coffee. They were sitting at a glass table with a shaded umbrella top at an outside bistro. "I'm so tired of fighting, but they seem to just keep coming. Why is that?"

Adrian swirled the straw in her blueberry-pomegranate smoothie. "I don't know. It seems I keep getting into fights with everyone lately. Can I blame it on the hormones?"

Cindy chuckled, but it only lasted a second. "I know you don't want to hear it, _Chica_, but some things need to change. You've told me that you don't know if you want to keep the baby yet or not."

"Yeah? I still have a few months."

"But you can't wait until the last minute for a decision like this. I understand why you want to wait for the paternity test, I have a feeling you're still going about this the wrong way. You don't think that you're going to just give the baby up for adoption if it's the wrong boy's, do you?"

Adrian slipped her lips around her straw and took a nice long drink.

"_Adrian,"_ her mother sighed. "You can't plan your life around Ricky. Things between you and Ricky aren't even going well right now."

"They're not going bad."

"But they aren't as good as they were before the baby, are they? He's still off having sex with other girls, isn't he?"

Adrian shrugged. "It's the way he deals, okay?"

"And will that be the way he deals once the baby comes and everything goes to hell in a hand basket?"

"No!"

"How can you be sure?" Cindy pushed her coffee to the side and reached across the table, taking her daughter's hands. "Look, honey. You need to decide whether or not _you_ want the baby – no matter whose baby it is – because everything else is going to pivot on that. If you want the baby, then you're going to need to find work and insurance. _I_ can't support three of us. And you'll have to start purchasing supplies ahead of time. There's a lot of work involved in planning for a baby, Adrian. You have to think about all that. Especially if…" Her voice trailed off.

"Especially if what?"

"Especially if the baby does turn out to be Ricky's. I don't mean to sound superficial, but Ricky isn't a rich boy, not like Ben, but yet he's the one you're hoping for. If it's his baby, you _will_ struggle. Financially, emotionally, and physically."

"But how do I…" Adrian felt her voice crack. "How am I supposed to get a job, take care of a baby, _and_ maintain my grades at the top of my class?"

"And that's the crux of having a baby in high school, _Chica_."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

It was dark by the time the time they got home. When Adrian entered the house, the first thing she noticed was the burnt smell seemed to be worse than when they'd left. "It smells like burnt popcorn."

"I'll go find George," Cindy said before heading for her bedroom.

There were fans set up throughout the condo and they were bothersome to Adrian, who found them to be too cold. She hugged her arms and moved towards the glass slider. A voyeuristic curiosity washed over her and she stepped outside. On the ground the plate of blistered, blackened pancakes was still there. It looked as if someone had doused them with water. The teen knelt down and inspected them, all melted together in a mass, like cold lava.

When George had made them, they'd been good and sweet, not even needing syrup, even if Adrian wasn't particularly fond of white chocolate chips. But now they repulsed not just her, but everyone else too. It was hard to believe that they were even the same pancakes. With the tip of her nail, she poked at one of the pancakes; it was solid, like rock. Adrian stood up and returned to the condo. Her mother and George still weren't in sight, so she moved to the kitchen.

Obviously, the last craving hadn't blown over so well, so she began to rummage the cupboards for something she didn't have to heat up, then she noticed something sitting on the counter: the folders Anne had given George that morning. She paused, curious, then stepped towards them. First she looked up to make sure there was no sign of George and when all was free and clear, she used the tip of her nail to turn over the front side of the manila folder. Sitting on top was the divorce decree and at the bottom of the page, Anne's name had been signed, and below hers, George's had also been signed.

Adrian felt her stomach drop and quickly closed the folder. As much as she disliked Amy Juergens, she still felt pity for Anne and all that George had done to her by cheating on her as he had. A part of her, deep down, could also sympathize with the loss that she assumed George's daughters must be going through, especially a loss to another woman and another teenage daughter. She thought about the pancakes again, then George, and realized that they actually had quite a bit in common.


	13. Baked California

**A/N: **In response to, "Why does Adrian hate Amy?" She doesn't. (Although now Amy hates her.) Adrian dislikes her, but she doesn't hate her. (Maybe that wasn't clear. If so, sorry about that.) She views her as a bit of a goody-two-shoes. And then there are just other…little things. Like, Amy dating Ben/Amy's friendship with Ben. (Jealousy or something? Maybe, maybe not…) And Ricky's opinion/dislike of Amy could also have something to do with it. ;) But in the wake of the whole George business, she does feel a little pity for her (and Anne).

_**Turning Tables**_

**Baked California**

"The age old question: love or money."

"Huh?"

Adrian shook her head. "Never mind. Look at this! Can you believe how expensive this crap is? I went to the cheapest place I could think of – Wal-Mart's website – and still the cheapest crib I see is ninety-nine bucks, not including shipping. And it's kind of hideous, too."

Grace pulled up a chair beside Adrian and sat down as the latter scrolled through the baby section on the Wal-Mart online store. "Everyone knows babies are expensive, Adrian. But you know that you don't have to buy everything new, right?"

"And what am I suppose to do? Go dumpster diving for a rusty old crib that will probably give my kid gangrene?"

"There's always thrift stores," Grace replied brightly. "I_ love_ thrift stores! Sometimes you can find things that are practically new for a fraction of the cost! If you want, we can pick a day over the weekend to go baby browsing if you want."

"Thanks, but no thanks." Adrian exited the browsing window. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have any money to go shopping with anyway."

"Have you been looking into jobs?"

"I have a great GPA, but that doesn't exactly equate into work experience on a resume. And, with me being a high school student, that cuts even further into the list of potential jobs, because there are so few that offer a decent wage, especially as part time, and even less that offer insurance benefits to a pregnant teenager."

Grace crinkled her nose in deep thought. "Maybe you could speak with Mr. Molina?" she suggested. "He could probably help you look into jobs in your area of expertise. Maybe he could even find you one where you get school credit for working? Work experience or something?"

"I guess wishful thinking is one option I have."

"It's not wishful thinking, it's practicality. They _do_ offer things like that, Adrian."

"We'll see."

The door cracked open and Grace's father, Marshall Bowman, a sturdy blonde man in a dress shirt and slacks, popped his head in. "Gracie, I just wanted to remind you that the trash needs to go out tonight."

"I haven't forgotten, Dad."

"And could you please tell your mother that I have to make an unexpected trip up to Palo Alto tonight? I've been trying to get a hold of her, but I realized she left her phone on the charger this morning and I have to leave in about an hour."

"Palo Alto? Isn't that like a six hour drive?"

"Dr. Hightower has asked me to go in her place, she had a family emergency that she had to attend to."

Grace nodded. "Alright, will do." She hopped off the chair and gave her father a warm hug and kiss on the cheek. "Drive safe and call when you get there!"

Marshall kissed Grace's forehead. "I will." He looked up and nodded to Adrian. "Nice to see you again, Adrian."

"Likewise, Mr. Bowman."

"How are things going with the pregnancy?"

Adrian shrugged. "As well as can be expected I guess."

Marshall nodded. "I'll see you girls later then. Have a good week!"

"Bye!" Grace chirped as her father shut the door.

"I'm tired of studying, you wanna take a break?"

"I've been the one actually studying," Grace corrected her friend.

"All the same: you want to go hit the Dairy Shack? I'm having a massive craving for a strawberry-banana milkshake."

"I thought you hated the Dairy Shack's banana milkshakes?"

"I said _strawberry_-banana."

"What about not having any money for anything?" Grace lifted her eyebrow.

"Oh get off it!" Adrian snorted. "Just go with me or face the wrath of my pregnancy hormones. Basically: do or die."

Grace grabbed her purse from the back of her door handle and shrugged. "Alright then, but I really think you should be saving your pocket money for the baby."

"And I think you should stop being so Christian all the time, but we all have to live with one another's quirks now don't we?"

The two teenagers made their way downstairs and Grace stopped to lock the door behind her while Adrian started up her convertible. Moments later Grace climbed into the passenger seat and noticed that Adrian was staring into the rearview mirror. "Makeup not quite right?" she joked.

Adrian abandon the rearview mirror and placed her hands on the wheel, but didn't shift the gear into drive. "I was just feeling a little strange," she said quietly.

"Upset stomach?"

"No…" Adrian looked over her shoulder then at Grace. "Do you ever get a weird feeling sometimes, like someone's watching you?"

"I think we all get that feeling sometimes."

"I know, but sometimes…even like when you're alone? The cold, tingly, October-like feeling that just sort of surrounds you and gives you chills?"

Grace squirmed uncomfortably and looked up and down the road, but it was desolate. "I think I know the kind you're talking about," she agreed. "I used to get them when I was a kid, like if I was doing something I wasn't supposed to and I knew it. I figured it was God's presence, telling me what I was doing was wrong."

"It's not God." Adrian glanced into the rearview mirror again and then closed her eyes and shook herself off. "Maybe it is just my conscientious though." She pressed her foot to the break and pulled onto the road, leaving her objections at the curb.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I need to talk to Bunny alone for a few minutes, Ben. It shouldn't take long if you want to go back out to the car and wait."

Ben shook his head and took a seat in the front of the butcher shop. They'd hit it at one of the few lulls in the day, probably on purpose. "I'm fine, no use in wasting gas for a minutes." He strummed his fingers as his father led the store manage, Bunny, into the back room to discuss something or other. Ben's thoughts soon began to turn to Amy and their last conversation at the park. He kept contemplating the idea of texting her to see how she was and to find out whether or not her parents were still following through with the divorce when the jingle of the bell above the door distracted his attention.

An older man walked in, probably passed mid-life by Ben's calculations, but certainly not yet elderly. He wore a plum colored windbreaker with lime green stripes and a pair of black jogging pants. Despite the white hair, he looked surprisingly fit for his age. The man wandered up to the counter and began to mull over the options behind the glass. "Been waiting long?"

"Oh, no," Ben combated the question with a wave of his hands. "No, I'm just waiting for my dad, he's in the back speaking with the manager. They should be out any minute."

The man nodded and continued browsing until he came to a booklet on the counter depicting the Boykewich Butcher catering services. He lifted it up and took it over to the chair beside Ben and plopped himself down to get comfortable, softly humming to himself.

Ben scooted to the farthest most side of his chair to give the gentleman as much elbow room as possible, but as the seconds ticked off, he began to cast quiet glances over his shoulder, eyeing the pages the man was looking at, and began to notice that he kept frequenting one page in particular. "Planning a party?" he asked casually.

"Hm?" the man murmured, raising his eyes from the page.

"A party," Ben repeated. "I noticed you're looking at the catering booklet."

"Ah!" the man chuckled, nodding. "Yes. No, actually. Not a party, but I was interested in catering for a marathon."

"A marathon? How many people, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Probably an upwards of a hundred. No more than one-fifty at the most. It's a fundraiser."

Ben smiled and motioned his hand. "May I?"

The gentleman shrugged. "Be my guest."

Ben took the booklet and flipped it open to the back. "I'd actually recommend one our Theme Buffets for what you're talking about. My mom was particularly fond of these, she proposed the gift basket option for the Theme Package and although it costs a little, they tend to generate a lot of raffle ticket sales. Plus, there are occasions in which discounts can be offered for certain types of occasions, so you may want to ask about that as well."

The man touched his chin in thought. "That's quite good thinking, young man. I hadn't even considered that before." He offered his hand. "Thank you very much. What did you say your name was again?"

"Ben Boykewich, Sir."

"Boykewich? As in, The Sausage King?"

"No, that would be me."

Both Ben and the customer looked up at the sound of Leo's voice, who was standing behind the counter with Bunny. Ben motioned his hand, "My dad, Leo Boykewich, The Sausage King."

"Aha!" The man jumped up and shook Leo's hand. "Wonderful! Your son certainly has the genes for the family business! I'd like to take advantage of exactly what he suggested."

Bunny raised a skeptical brow as she eyed Ben. "And that would be?"

"The Theme Package with the Boykewich Basket add-on! It's perfect!"

Leo looked at his son, then back to the customer, and offered his handshake. "We'd love to do business with you then!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

_Hey, you want to get together later and go shopping?_

Ricky's eyes swept over the text message that had just come in from Adrian. He fidgeted in the plastic, straight back chair he was seated in and typed back: _Can't. Busy._ _Y would I want 2 go shopping w/ U anyway?_

Two minutes later the cell phone vibrated again: _It's not just shopping, it's for the baby. I thought you might want be involved._

Ricky slid his hand into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet, which he opened and pulled the sonogram photo out of. He breathed out a little and responded: _So does that mean Ben's coming 2? It's not like I have money 2 go spending on U._

_The baby and I are not synonymous. And no, I didn't invite Ben._

_I already told U I can't. Got plans. TTYL. _Ricky shut off his phone and slid it back into his pocket. He took another longing look at the sonogram, then also tucked that into his pocket.

"Richard Underwood?"

Ricky rose, dusted off his slacks, and walked up to the woman who had called his name. He gave her his most charming smile, the one that typically worked on the girls at school and at band camp and where ever else he was at, and offered his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. And you are?"

The woman looked down her nose at him. "Unimpressed, but fortunately, that means nothing for you, because I'm not the one who makes the hiring and firing decisions." She snapped her fingers, beckoning him to follow her down a long hallway which ended at a dark wood door with a fancy golden nameplate.

Ricky absently straightened his tie while she poked her head into the room and said something he couldn't hear to whomever was behind the door, then he shook himself off and replaced his smile as soon as her eyes were on him again.

"Mr. McIntyre will see you now."

"Thank you." Ricky placed his hand onto the door handle and realized it was shaking, so he grabbed his wrist with the other hand to steady it. "Calm down, act cool," he told himself. Attaching his best smile, he stepped inside and strode confidently towards an elaborate cherry wood desk, where a man in a black suit and tie with slicked back hair was talking into a headset. The teen offered his hand, though the man seemed too busy to take it, and motioned for him to sit down.

Reluctantly, Ricky nodded and seated himself. During the five minutes that followed, he allowed his eyes to prance around the room, which was bare save for the certificates from colleges and achievements.

"So," Mr. McIntyre finally exclaimed when his call ended, "you're here for a job interview?"

"Yes, Sir." Ricky rose again and offered his hand a second time. The man took it, though in Ricky's opinion, it seemed a forced gesture.

Mr. McIntyre ran his fingers over his gelled hair and picked up a piece of paper which Ricky recognized as his resume. "A little young, aren't you?"

"You can never be too young for a job, Sir."

"And your resume's a little short too, isn't it?" He flashed the teenager a shot of the page, which was only a half a page in length. "You have no work experience, your grades are barely above average, and you're just a kid. What makes you think you would be valuable to me?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Who were you texting?" Grace came up to the table with a tray containing a burger, fries, a bottled water, and Adrian's milkshake.

"Nobody," Adrian sighed, taking her milkshake. "Thanks."

"Ricky?" Grace persisted.

"Maybe."

Grace stood up. "I need to use the restroom, can I just leave my purse with you?"

Adrian shook her head in confirmation and looked down at her phone again.

"How far along are you?"

The teen's head snapped up and around in a semicircle to the find a man in the booth behind her staring at her face-to-face. "Who says I'm pregnant?"

"I heard you talking to your friend about it while you were waiting for your order."

Adrian shrugged. "About four-and-a-half months, give or take. Why?"

"Congratulations, you must be so excited. I remember that feeling when my wife was pregnant. Overwhelming joy."

"Yeah, something like that. I suspect it's different when you're married and expecting, as opposed to unexpected teen motherhood."

"Oh, I'm sorry. That must be difficult. Are you adopting?"

"I…haven't made up my mind yet." Adrian spotted Grace heading back to the table and picked up the tray. "I suddenly have a craving for a jar of Dill Pickles, so we should go."

"But I haven't even had a chance to-"

"Dill Pickles! Now!"

"Take care!" the man called.

"Yeah, thanks." She pinched her lips. "You too."

Grace leaned her head close to Adrian's as they left. "Was he hitting on you?"

"No, he was just being a nosy booth neighbor and I _hate_ people nosing into my business. Asshole."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I'm impressed with the way you handled Mr. Rivers back there, son."

"I was just giving him some advice," Ben replied. He was staring out of the window of the limo while his father sat on the opposite side of the seat.

"It was good advice, Mr. Rivers walked away from my establishment a very happy man and – I think – he may even think of us in the future if all goes well with the actual catering event."

"That's great."

"I think you have a nose for catering, Benjamin."

"And?"

"And I want to start having you work as an event planner at the butcher shop."

Ben flung his head around. "What? Dad, I don't know about that, I just gave _one_ guy some advice-"

"It's a good way for your to get real life work experience and make a little money as well. You're fifteen now, sixteen this summer, I think it's about time you got a job."

"You really think I'd be good at it?"

"You never know if you don't try. Plus, you can begin saving up to provide for the baby, if you're proven to be the biological father. She's not a rich girl, Adrian, so you're going to have to do your part."

Ben slumped in his seat. "I know that, you've made that very clear to me already. And I've been thinking about that."

"Good, then it's settled, I'll call up Bunny tomorrow and organize her to begin training you and we'll set up some hours for you after school. How's that sound?"

Ben crossed his legs. "Yeah, it sounds alright," he mumbled. "But what happens if I'm not the father? I mean, if Ricky's the father, how do we address the financial burden until the baby's born?"

"You know, I donate a portion of my store's proceeds to good causes every month, Benjamin. If you aren't the father, then think of it as a good cause, because how can helping to support a young mother and her baby in this difficult world be anything other than a good cause?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"They're hiring at the food court in the mall," Grace said, looking at the LCD screen on her phone.

"How do you know that?"

"Online classifieds."

"Well there's no way I'm getting a job at the food court and having to wear one of those hideous outfits. They look like clowns."

"What about Borders? You like books."

"They're hiring?"

"I don't see a listing, but it's worth checking out. It's a great environment and," she flashed a cheeky smile, "I could have an excuse to pop in and see you every day!"

"Oh joy!" Adrian replied in a sarcastic singsong voice. She adjusted her rearview mirror. "Hey, uh, Grace…speaking of being around you all the time, what are you doing this evening?"

"I don't really have any plans, why?"

"Would you be interested in a sleepover?"

"Do you have an ulterior motive?"

Adrian tapped the brake. "Why would you assume that?"

"You've never struck me as the sleepover type."

"Boy, you are becoming less naive hanging around me, aren't you?" She grabbed for her sunglasses clipped to the rearview mirror and slipped them on. "Alright, my house still reeks of smoke from the pancake fiasco the other day and I don't really want to be around my mother and George while they're sorting out their infidelity issues. Is that ulterior enough for you?"

"I'm sorry," Grace exhaled. "I didn't mean to sound rude. Of course you can sleepover! I need to get permission from my mom first, but I'm sure she won't mind. Oh! And I forgot to tell her about Dad going out of town." She dipped into her purse and pulled out her cell phone, hitting her second speed dial.

"You have your mother on speed dial?"

"Don't you?"

"_Ha!"_

"Mom, hey! It's me, Grace."

"Like she doesn't know who her own daughter is," Adrian whispered.

Grace waved her hand to silence her friend. "No, everything's fine, we just went out for a snack. Hey, I was wondering if Adrian could stay over tonight?" The cheerleader nodded to herself. "Alright, great! Oh, and Dad told me to tell you that he's going to Palo Alto and – oh, you already got his message when you got home? Okay, alright. Thanks! Bye!"

"So we're good?"

"My mom said that would be fine and that she's just starting on dinner. It's her homemade mac n' cheese! It's amazing, she makes it from a scratch recipe with sour cream and, oh, it's sooo good! And she's making Baked Alaska for dessert."

"Sour cream? Really?"

"Don't judge it until you've tried it! You'll love it, I swear!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"How did the job interview go?" Margaret inquired as her son came in.

Ricky tore off his tie and tossed it over the back of the chair as he sat down at the dinner table across from his foster father.

"That good, huh?" Sanjay Shakur, though he went by his last name, asked.

"The only way it could've been worse is if they'd dug up my records."

"You're not a criminal, Ricky, you have nothing to hide." Shakur pushed the gravy boat across the table as his wife brought over a giant bowl of homemade mashed potatoes. "There's always tomorrow. But I'm proud of you for going out there and trying today."

"I suppose there's always McDonald's," Ricky scoffed as he slopped some mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"Don't be like that, son. You're a good young man with a hard work ethic, just look at what you've done throughout the years while you've been in our home with the younger foster children."

"Maybe that's something to look into?" Margaret suggested. "Something in childcare. It would also serve as a good refresher course for when the baby arrives."

"I'm sure any parent would love to have a sexually abused teenager who's going to therapy taking care of their kids all day." He stabbed his fork into some honey home and then poured a lake of gravy over everything on his plate.

Margaret took her place at the table, seated between her husband and her son. She began layering her plate with spoonfuls of lemon pepper green beans. "Have you spoken with Adrian today? How are she and the baby doing?"

"Just a text message, she asked about shopping, but I don't have any money for that. I guess they're fine though."

Margaret and Shakur eyed each other across the table.

"What? What are you two doing?" Ricky pointed his finger between them. "I don't like when you do that, it's rude."

Shakur reached around to the back of his chair where his coat was draped and pulled out his wallet. From inside, he retrieved a hundred and passed it across the table to Ricky. "Why don't you take Adrian up on that offer?"

Ricky firmly shook his head and pushed the money back. "Nope. This isn't your baby and it's not your responsibility. It might not even be mine, so I won't have you paying for me."

"It's not up for debate, Ricky." Margaret pushed the money back. "Whether or not the baby is yours anyway is irrelevant. We work in Social Services and we know that every little bit helps, so we're happy to do this for Adrian."

"It's charity. I don't want your charity. And I don't think Adrian would either."

"It's not charity, it's a gift," Shakur argued. "Now take the money and spend a little time with Adrian. End of discussion." He looked to his wife. "How was your day at work?"

Ricky bitterly picked the bill of the table and slipped it into his pocket as his parents began a new conversation. As much as he hated the idea of taking their money, the idea of being able to spend a little quality time with Adrian – without Ben – was a motivating thought. He excused himself from the table.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian fidgeted beneath Grace's cotton pink covers. Everything about the cheerleader's bed was all from, from the virgin girliness of the sheets to the fact that the mattress itself was far too lumpy, which Grace claimed as _cushy_. In fact, she figured she was likely to be more comfortable on the floor in Grace's sleeping bad, but Grace had insisted that as her guest – a pregnant guest at that – she had to take the bed.

She heard a low rumbling sound in the darkness around eleven, give or take. Being the night owl that she was, Adrian was still wide awake with her head sunken into Grace's useless feather pillow, that only served to poke her and give her no head support whatsoever. The blonde, however, was fast asleep, and the Bowman residence was unsettlingly quiet save for the rumble. Silently, Adrian rolled over to the edge of the bed and reached for her purse, managing to get it with the tip of her nail after three tries. She pulled it onto the bed and ducked under the covers as the LCD screen lit up.

_2morrow. 6PM. The mall. Don't B late._

Adrian rolled over and hugged her cell to her chest. If only she could pass the time by sleeping, but there was no way she could now, she was far too happy to sleep. Instead she accessed the mall website from her phone, her mind already plotting all the places that they could go.


	14. The Father And The Mother To Be

**A/N: **So sorry for not getting this updated in the last two days (might have to do a double update today then, eh?), but I have been_ swamped_ this week! I had had about four really long reading assignments, two quizzes, an essay, and an extra credit essay to complete by today and I still have another reading assignment, another quiz, and another essay due by Saturday. (Followed by even more stuff due by Monday…) My fingers are actually hurting from typing at this point. But on the bright side, I did get an essay I turned in last week returned today with 100%! Hell to the yes! Anyway, without further adieu, I hope this was worth the wait!

_**Turning Tables**_

**The Father And The Mother To Be**

"I'm preparing for a birthday. Do you have anything for birthdays?"

Ben studied the man on the other side of the counter: oval shaped face, green and black Hawaiian shirt, jeans, and a short beard. Something in the way the man stared at him – and something in his _tone_ – made Ben hesitate. He looked sideways at Bunny, who he realized was glaring at him.

"Well aren't you going to help this gentleman?" She looked over the counter, smiling. "Mr…"

"Bob. Just call me Bob."

"Ben," the teenager returned, offering a handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bob." Ben lifted one of the catering booklets and stepped out from behind the counter. "Would you like to go over there and sit down?" he asked, motioning towards the chairs. "Boykewich Butchers has several birthday catering options that might be of interest to you."

"Great!" Bob moved to the chairs and sat down beside Ben. His eyes shifted easily between the booklet and the teenager, which didn't go unnoticed by the latter.

"How big is your party?" Ben asked, trying not to squirm under Bob's gaze.

"I'm not sure yet…but if all goes well, most likely just a small family event."

"Right. Well…" Ben mulled over the menu page. "My dad might not appreciate this, but truthfully, you might not even need catering options with something so small. Maybe we could set you up with a nice barbeque bundle? Ribs, hamburgers, hotdogs, etc…"

"Yeah…" Bob mused. "I'm sorry, you said your father?"

"Uh, yeah, The Sausage King," Ben replied uncertainly. "He's the owner."

"I see his commercials and billboards all over the place," Bob said. "He's done very well for himself, hasn't he?"

"Built his business from the ground up!" Ben proudly responded.

"Sounds like a good man," Bob nodded. "Good, _caring_ man."

"He is." Ben swallowed uncomfortably. "But back to your party-"

"You know what," Bob interrupted, rising from the chair. "I really appreciate your help, Ben. You've made some enlightening comments and I'd like to think them over if you don't mind. Pleasure to meet you, _Ben_."

"Likewise. I hope you'll be back."

"Oh, don't worry," Bob nodded, flashing a smile across the room at Bunny. "The options here are looking _very_ appealing."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian maneuvered around the aisles, stopping occasionally to examine a binding or pick up a book from a shelf. She opened the ones she grabbed to random pages, read them, and then set them back and moved on. Her eyes flashed about the signs strewn around the store: _Science-Fiction_, _Fantasy_, _Cooking_, _Biographies_, _Languages_, _Children's_, _Young Adult_… She'd always done exceptionally well in English and writing, a massive part of which was reading, so the deduction was an easy one: "I could work here."

The Latina laid her hand on her stomach as she stepped out of the _Romance_ section and headed towards the _Medical_ section. It was cozy, it wasn't overcrowded, and it wasn't overly noisy either. Plus, it had a pretty good aroma that washed in from the Borders café near the front doors. "I wonder if you get employee discounts?" Her mind wandered, skipping ahead four years to her freshman year of college. "Could I get discounted textbooks if I worked here?" She spotted the help desk and tried to imagine herself there, studying class notes in between directing people to find the books they were looking for, and then at the end of the day returning home to a toddler who was really just a shapeless silhouette of a creature in her mind, that she couldn't put a face or name or even a sex to.

But the fantasy was brief and she promptly shook her thoughts away as she came upon the _Medical_ section, where she had left Grace earlier. As expected, the blonde was still there, with her nose tucked into a book, oblivious to the tall scraggly haired brunette that was also in the aisle, sneaking peeks at her from the book he was pretending to read. In that moment, Grace reminded Adrian a bit of Belle from _Beauty and the Beast_, if only Belle was blonde. She bypassed the boy and slipped up beside Grace, leaning in to whisper, "Are you ignoring him or are you really that oblivious?"

Grace jumped, dropping her book in the process, and clasped her hand to her chest. "Geeze, Adrian! You scared me half to death!" Her eyes crinkled around the edges. "Him who?" she suddenly asked, naive bewilderment on her creamy features.

"The guy giving you puppy faces," Adrian whispered.

"What?" Grace gasped, blushing almost immediately. "Where?" She instinctively reached down to straighten her denim mini skirt.

"Right behind us."

"_Really?"_

"Mhmm."

"Should I go talk to him? Is he…_cute_?"

Adrian wrinkled her nose. "Well, _I'm_ not impressed, but to each their own."

Grace suddenly turned around and looked the boy up and down, then held out her hand. "I'm Grace!"

The boy stared at her, momentarily caught off guard, then awkwardly accepted the handshake. "Grant."

"Nice to meet you, Grant!"

Adrian watched in amusement as Grace's face turned a scarlet color.

"Well, we've gotta go! Bye!"

Adrian's brows knitted together as Grace walked, so the Latina quickly followed until they were safely out of the bookstore. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know!" Grace yelped. "Why did you let me do that? You should've stopped me!"

"I didn't know you were going to act like an idiot…although, given your history…"

"I'm serious!" Grace gasped, her cheeks still violently glowing with color. "I've never done that before!"

"You always go up to random people and introduce yourself."

"Yeah, but that's different!"

"How?"

"Well…they aren't cute. And…I always have something in mind to talk about. This time…I just went in cold and my mind just blanked! It was like when you're talking and then you just up and forget what you were talking about! How _embarrassing!_" Grace pressed her hand to her steaming face, shaking it helplessly. "Good Lord, I am _so_ embarrassed!"

"We didn't even ask about the job applications," Adrian complained.

Grace frowned. "Please don't make me go back in there. You could go by yourself."

Adrian's stomach growled and she sighed. "No, never mind. I'm hungry anyway and I still have to drop you off so I can go meet up with Ricky, so we'll just come back some other time. I didn't see any help wanted signs while we were in there anyway."

"Doesn't mean they won't hire you."

"Always the optimist," Adrian rolled her eyes.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Perhapss we could sstudy together, ssometime?"

Ricky flashed his teeth. The girl walking beside him was pretty, with long ebony hair and flawlessly dark Eastern Indian skin which practically gave off an amber glow. "Maybe on a Saturday or Sunday?" he asked.

"I'm free next Ssaturday."

Ricky puckered his lips, trying not to grin. He liked the sound of her accent, especially when her words lingered on the _S_ sound, so he was slyly trying to get her to say a few more _S_ words. He alternated his band uniform from draping over one arm to the other and seamlessly took a step closer to the girl. He'd met her coming out of the counselor's office on his way back from band practice. "So, what made you want to transfer here in the middle of the year?" he asked casually.

"My father'ss company possition, we never sstay any place too long." She suddenly held her hand and waved, then graciously turned to Ricky. "It wass nice meeting you, Ricky."

"You too, Aamani. And uh, don't be a stranger, you know where to find me," he winked, relishing her slightly embarrassed giggle. Ricky watched her get into the passenger seat of her ride and then waved when he saw her hand motioning to him as the car pulled back onto the street. With a little skip in his step, he quickened his pace to the parking lot, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw his car and the back of the person inspecting it. The drummer's hand began to shake as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his cell phone, then hollered, _"Hey!"_

Bob spun around rather gleefully. "Long time, no see!"

Ricky's phone made a snapping noise as it captured Bob's face on the screen. The drummer clamped his hands around the base of the phone. "You're not supposed to be within three-hundred feet of me!"

"It's a nice car ya got there," Bob said, returning his attention to his car as if Ricky hadn't said anything at all. "Still, could be nicer." He moved around the car slowly. "Say, if it were _red_?"

Ricky suddenly dropped his uniform on the ground and curled his fist, raising it tall and fierce for Bob to see. "You stay away from her!"

Bob shrugged innocently. "Her who?"

"Adrian!"

"Adrian?" Bob circled Ricky's car again and then casually stopped at the rear end and leaned up against it, resting his elbow on the trunk. "Don't know her…_but I'd like to_. She a friend of yours?"

"You low life fucking bastard! I have your photograph and I can prove you broke the restraining order-"

"Now, now," Bob yawned, moving his hands up and down in a patronizing fashion. "There's no need for profanity. I just wanted to let you know that I was back in town. Can't a father just want to see his son?"

"I only have one father and his name is _Sanjay Shakur!_"

Bob merely smiled. "It's been good to see you too, Ricky." He pushed up from Ricky's car and moved a few parking spaces down to a lime green vehicle with black striping and silver painted side mirrors. He climbed into his car and revved the engine as though he was preparing for a race, then swung the car around and stopped it behind Ricky's car and rolled down his window. "Oh, just one other thing, an observation: you look like your havin' a bad day, son." He revved the engine again. "It's hard to be a man in the world, isn't it?" He winked, then drove off in a storm of dust, gravel, and exhaust fumes.

Ricky felt the veins in his neck swell and even thought they might well burst at one point. So much anger, so much _rage _was bolting through his veins. He found himself staring at Bob's smug smile on his cell phone and then, without thinking, pounded his fist into the trunk of his car, where Bob had been leaning. The metal dented in as though it had been smacked with a knee sized rock.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"So how was your first day, son?"

"Bunny didn't already tell you?"

"We talked," Leo nodded. "But I wanted to hear it from you." The limo began to move. "I made reservations at Geoff's so we could discuss things. How does that sound?"

Ben nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. "Dad?" he asked suddenly. "You didn't happen to get in contact with anyone named 'Bob' today, did you?"

Leo scratched his forehead. "No, why? Should I have?"

The teenager shook his head. "Just…no."

"Something on your mind?"

"It's just…I don't know. I guess I just had a strange first day. Maybe it's just going to take some getting used to?" He stared out the window for a beat. "Did you ever get oddball customers when you first started working?"

"_First started?"_ Leo laughed. "We work with the public, Ben! We're _always _going to have oddball customers. In fact, that's likely to be your customer base. They can be a riot sometimes, others not so much, but you just have to take the good with the bad and move on. Why? Was there someone who really jumped out at you today?"

"I – I guess not, no." He tugged at the seatbelt to stop it from rubbing at the tender skin of his neck. "Just first day jitters, I guess. Nothing, really. Forget I even said anything."

Leo leaned over to pat his son on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it in time. It just takes practice and continued people skills."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

It started out as an annoying vibration shortly after she left Grace's house, on her way to the mall. Soon it became a thumping noise that eventually began to distract her from the radio. It was rhythmic and persistent, every few moments, then it became a frustrating _thump – thump_. Disgruntled – and beginning to become worried – Adrian finally pulled off onto the side of the road. A few cars whizzed by, but there weren't many on that particular stretch of highway, so she waited for them to pass before getting out and inspecting her car. When she got around to the back, she noticed that her right rear tire was flat, accounting for the thuds. Upon closer inspection, she realized it had a nail embedded into it.

"What the fuck?" she hissed in frustration. "These are brand new all season tires!" Frustrated, she kicked the tire with the toe of her shoe and reached for the cell phone in her pocket, which was hidden by the silver and lavender baby doll top she was wearing. Just as she grabbed the edge of the baby doll top hem to lift it up for access to her pocket, another car – an unassuming little beige thing – pulled off behind her. She didn't recognize the man inside, but saw him wave to her and she stiffened a little and wiggled her fingers back uncertainly.

The man's window came down. "What's the problem?"

Adrian hovered her hand over her pocket. "Just a flat, I'm fine, thanks! I've got a spare."

"You need any help changing anything?" The man pushed the door open and climbed out. He looked harmless enough, with sandy blonde hair in a typical pair of blue jeans and a crew neck t-shirt. If he'd had a summer tan, he could've passed for a stereotypical surfing beach boy.

Adrian quickly shook her head. "Nope! Again, thanks, but no thanks. Not all women are incapable in a crisis."

The man ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry," he laughed. "Didn't mean to come off like a sexist jerk."

The Latina relaxed a bit and allowed herself a chuckle. "You can never be too careful these days."

"No you can't," he agreed. "Speaking of…you want me to wait to make sure you've got everything under control before I leave?"

"I think I can handle it." Adrian nodded and watched the man go back to his car, but he didn't actually leave. Frustrated, she popped her trunk and moved around the back, where she began to struggle to pull out the spare tire.

A moment later he called out again, "You sure you don't need help with that?"

"Will it get you to leave?" Adrian bit back.

"It might!"

Adrian rolled her eyes tthe flirty sound of his voice. "Fine!" she hollered back. "Come play Hercules and then let me be on my way." She stepped back to the side of her convertible as the man up and added, "My _boyfriend's_ expecting me."

"Lucky guy," the man commented as he reached into her trunk and pulled out the spare. He stepped around to the car and laid the tire on the ground, then returned to the trunk and retrieved the car jack.

"Thanks, I really appreciate-" It was only at that moment that she realized the man was suddenly wearing thin see-through plastic gloves, like the disposable ones a cook would use to chop up onions or the like. She sucked in her breath while simultaneously feeling the rate of her heartbeat increase tenfold and turned to run, but she felt him grab her by her flying hair. Just as easily, her hair slipped between his gloves a moment after it was caught, but the panic in being grabbed for even that second distracted her enough to make her misstep and fall.

Adrian immediately moved to roll over, planning to kick and punch and bite and spit, whatever she had to do to get free, but before she could, she suddenly felt a weight on her back, pinning her to the ground. Her mind screamed as she felt her stomach being shoved against the dirt, tears springing to her eyes as she felt the rocks and gravel beginning to embed themselves into her flesh. Then she felt her head violently yanked back, once again by her hair. As she opened her mouth to scream, a soft, wet cloth enveloped her nose and mouth and when she inhaled, all she could smell was a faint, sweet chemical smell, then her eyelids began to grow heavy and everything inside of her calmed to a relaxing lull until she couldn't remember where she was, what she was doing, or even who she was anymore.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben barely crawled into bed – and it was early, he never went to bed before nine, let alone at seven – and his head just hit the pillow when his phone began to vibrate on his desk. Rolling over with an extended groan, he flipped it open without bothering to look at the caller I.D. "Hello?"

"Ben, it's Ricky."

Something in the other boy's voice made Ben's eyes shoot open. "How did you get my number?"

"You dad gave it to me last month, when we had that meeting between all three of our families to talk about…everything."

"So…why are you calling me?" He sat up and nervously pushed his covers off, suddenly feeling hot and uneasy. "Did something happen with the baby?"

"No – I – no." There was silence, then Ricky said quietly, "I was supposed to meet her. Tonight. At the mall. Have you seen her?"

"Not since school."

"We were supposed to meet at six, but it's already seven. She said she was hanging out with Grace after school and I tried to call Grace, but Grace hasn't answered her phone. And Adrian's keeps going straight to voicemail."

"Have you tried her house?"

"Answering machine."

"Well maybe-"

"_I'm worried."_

Ben drew his knees up under his chin, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He'd never heard Ricky sound like that before, he didn't even know it was possible for Ricky to sound like that: tiny, terrified, and maybe even ready to cry. "W-why?" he finally dared to ask.

"I saw my father today," Ricky replied, barely audible. "My _biological_ father. He didn't say it, not outright, but I think he knows about Adrian…and there's something she doesn't know about him. Something that she should know. Something that _you_ should know too."

"Wh-at?" Ben asked, choking on the word like it was a long Top Raman noodle caught halfway down the back of his throat. But his question coincided with the opening of his bedroom door and the look on his face literally raised bumps on his skin. "Dad!"

Leo looked white, like the face of a porcelain doll. In one hand he held a torn envelope and in the other he held a letter. "Ben-"

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Ben snatched up the letter from his father's hands and scanned it over, his eyes growing out of their sockets as Ricky's voice on the line mingled with his own thoughts. It was overwhelming; he was overheating like a low quality laptop.

"…_child molester_."

"It's a ransom note!"


	15. This Is Enough Of This

**A/N: **Hey all. Just wanted to warn you that this chapter gets an "R" rating, because parts of it are pretty dark and deal with adult themes. I felt that in the show, they really used the kid gloves when they introduced Bob's character and instead used him more or less as a cartoony villain. I hope you don't mind BHBKN, but I'd like to use a line from your last review to explain what I mean here, "I always knew Bob was a creep but, to do something like that is... Criminal." Don't get me wrong, I'm not to be rude here, but what we're _told_ Bob did doesn't reflect the way he was _shown_. The way he was portrayed in 1x14 and 1x15 truly did make him look like a moral-less, stalking, creep. But what he did to Ricky and Nora for years _was criminal_. This is a man who drank, used drugs, maliciously beat his wife and son _for years _(so much so that Nora chose to consume herself with drugs and drinking to escape the physical and mental pain and guilt), and who systematically molested and raped his son throughout his childhood (to show him "what it's like to be a man in the world") until the authorities intervened and _took_ Ricky away from him. And that's what I wanted to explore in this chapter, the man who actually did those things to Ricky and Nora, and not the creepy half comical bad guy who went around town stalking Ricky's girlfriends and buying drugs in a bad neighborhood. (Now, granted, I do not feel I gave it the full exploration that you could, because I do feel like that should be reserved for someone who wants to write a true "M" rated story about Ricky and Bob, and this story is not it. But I have tried to show more flashes of darkness and twistedness than I feel the show ever even thought about doing when they physically introduced the character.) So maybe what I'm trying to say is that kidnapping Adrian and trying to manipulate Leo into ransom is probably a drop in the bucket compared with the things that "It's Hard to be a Man in the World" Bob is willing to do. (And then coupled with the rages we've seen that Ricky can go into as well as Adrian, as evidenced by her destroying the nursery with her fist, I think that it has the potential for a really volatile combination that I wanted to experiment with.)

_**Turning Tables**_

**This Is Enough Of This**

The first thing she noticed upon awakening were the undulating throbs in her back. It felt like déjà vu somehow, but she couldn't place it. Her back hurt, her neck hurt, her scalp hurt, and everything was fuzzy. Fuzzy in the same way that, "It was when I ran into Antonio's glass slider when I was six." In a flood, all the memories of the previous day came rushing back!

_She felt him grab her by her flying hair. Just as easily, her hair slipped between his gloves a moment after it was caught, but the panic in being grabbed for even that second distracted her enough to make her misstep and fall. She immediately moved to roll over, planning to kick and punch and bite and spit, whatever she had to do to get free, but before she could, she suddenly felt a weight on her back, pinning her to the ground. Her mind screamed as she felt her stomach being shoved against the dirt, tears springing to her eyes as she felt the rocks and gravel beginning to embed themselves into her flesh. Then she felt her head violently yanked back, once again by her hair. As she opened her mouth to scream, a soft, wet cloth enveloped her nose and mouth and when she inhaled, all she could smell was a faint, sweet chemical smell._

Adrian jerked violently, only just then becoming fully aware of her body, similarly to waking up from a dream and realizing your arm has fallen asleep and it didn't feel like it was even there at first. At the sound of jangling chains and the icy blade of steel on her ankle, she realized that one of her legs was handcuffed to the bar of an old fashion wall mounted space heater and tied behind her back were her arms, with only her fingers able to wriggle. She began to violently shake and kick against the bindings and the heater, creating a tremendous amount of noise until the bathroom door opened and then she froze, waiting for whomever it was to come out.

"You can kick and struggle all you like, it won't do you any good. In fact, I don't mind watching…"

The voice sounded strangely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Adrian stared at the door, glaring and willing the person standing behind it to step out and show his vile face. When he didn't, she shook her foot again, rattling the handcuffs against the heater vent. "What do you want from me?"

A gloved hand reached around the door and pushed it back revealing a tall figure in a plain navy t-shirt and blue jeans. But over his head he wore a navy ski mask, leaving only his mouth and eyes visible to his captive. The man strode across the room and hovered over her, casting his hulking shadow over her tangled form. "It's not you that I want," he replied. Then, bending down, he grabbed her roughly by the chin and brought her face so close to his exposed lips that Adrian could feel the spray of saliva as he spoke. _"Yet."_

Every muscle in her body tightened as he shoved her head back against the wall and used her moment of disorientation to walk away. Her stomach curled up and she immediately began to wipe her mouth against the shoulder of her top to wipe her captor's spit from her lips.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"That's him?" Ben asked, stunned.

"That's the bastard, yeah!"

"Ricky!" Margaret scolded.

"What?" The drummer spun on her, voice cracking. "He is! That's what he is and you know it! We all know it!" Being crowded into a single room down at the police station, three families – him and his parents, Ben and his father, and Adrian's mother with George – not to mention the officers as well as Bob's disgusting image on the computer screen, made him feel claustrophobic.

"I've seen him before! Today!" Ben shook his head. "Yesterday, technically," he amended, glancing at the time stamp at the corner of the computer screen.

"_What?"_

Ben shivered, turning slowly to his father. "He came into the store, asking about birthday catering and I-" He shut his mouth.

"Birthday," Ricky spat out. _"Birthday!"_ He curled his fists, wanting to beat the shit out of something. Anything.

"The baby," Ben nodded. His eyes lifted as one of the officers extricated himself from the room.

"Somehow he's been keeping tabs on me from prison. I don't know how, but somehow! That's why he knew where I was, when I was, and the people I've been associating with. _I'm_ the reason he knew about Adrian!"

"This is not your fault, Ricky-" Leo began.

"Isn't it?" Ricky interrupted. "He found out about her because of _me!_ And her baby may or may not be mine, but he's still banking on the fact that _you_, Mr. Boykewich, have the money to pay ransom and he thinks you'll do it, on the off chance that she's carrying your grandchild. He's a manipulative fucker and Adrian wouldn't be gone right now if I'd never slept with her!"

"You can't help what Bob did to you," Shakur voiced. "No more than you can help what he may have done to Adrian."

"May have done? Are you hearing yourself right now? Who else could it be? He broke the restraining order to see me and I've got a goddamn picture of it and he was at Mr. Boykewich's butcher shop! What more proof do you need?"

"A lot more, I'm afraid." Officer Diablo, the one who had left the room just minutes earlier and now was reentering, spoke. His jaw set and eyes appeared grave. "I just spoke with Mr. Underwood's parole officer. He says that Bob had community service yesterday."

"Well obviously he wasn't there!"

"It's not as simple as that," the officer sighed. "He's on video camera. He'd been at his community service since five o'clock."

Ricky pulled his cell phone from his pocket and brought up Bob's picture, flashing it at the officer. "_After_ he talked to me! After he broke parole! Isn't that enough to send him back?"

"We could arrest him for the parole violation," the officer nodded, "but-"

"I-if you arrest him and – and he h-h-as taken Adri-an…" Cindy's wracked voice cut in.

The officer bowed his head regretfully. "Then it's likely he won't talk. Especially since we have no idea who his accomplice might be, if he is the one responsible for Adrian's disappearance."

"Can't you get an officer to follow him?" Ben asked.

"That is an option we're looking into right now," the officer confirmed.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

She could hear her captor in the bathroom, door shut, but talking on the phone, but the sound of the bathroom fan made it impossible to tell what he was saying. There were so many things going through her head that she couldn't possibly net them all and give each one the contemplation it deserved. There was only one that she really wanted to think about: "I have to get out."

But as long as that handcuff was on her ankle, that was an impossibility. Frustrated and so, so sore, she pushed her back up against the wall and shook her hands behind her back again. The bonds there was also too tight, she'd never get her hands free. Then a thought began to seed in the fertile soil that was her mind. "Oooh," she whispered. "I'm brilliant!"

Staring intently at the bathroom door to make sure she wasn't caught, she placed her palms together and began to wriggle her shoulders, worming her arms as far around her back as possible. Her left shoulder began to ache and she heard it making poppy joint sounds, so she paused for all of ten seconds to rest it, then resumed her movements until her hands were as far around her hips as she could get them.

Once in position, she curled the fingers of her left hand into the palm of her right, allowing the fingers on her right hand as much free range of movement as possible. Then, slowly, steadily, she began to worm them underneath her baby doll top and into the tight pocket of her jeans. "Further…just a little further…" She stopped breathing when she felt the tops of her fingers touch the top of her cell phone. "Just a little more…"

And then the fan turned off.

Adrian froze, fear crippling her as the handle on the bathroom began to turn. As slowly as she'd managed to get her fingers around her back and into her pocket, she two times as quickly ripped them back out and literally toppled over as her captor walked out of the bathroom and began to laugh at her.

"You are a determined one," he chuckled. "I can see why the boys like you."

Adrian pushed herself back up, another idea forming. "The boys?" she asked, then tilted her head to the side, revealing the full length of her neck. "Is that why you kidnapped me?" she asked, her voice transforming, becoming silk and lace. "Do you _want_ me?" Her heart began to beat in her throat, staring at him with the lusty looks she only reserved for the boys she was about to have in her bed. All the while, however, the corner of her eye was on the handcuff around her ankle. "Because if that's all you want," she continued, her stomach flip-flopping as the words came out, "why don't you just _ask_?"

She felt the pulses of her wrists quicken against each other as he started to strut towards her. It was an oddly familiar strut, déjà vu again, like with his voice. But Adrian tried to push that to the back of her mind when he crouched down in front of her. She lifted her eyebrows and leaned forward, pushing her chest out despite all the gut instincts that were trying to stop her from doing so.

The masked man slid his gloved hand around the back of her head and forcefully shoved her head forward. _"Ask?"_ he whispered, his eyes exactly level with hers. "That's all it'll take, huh?"

"Ask and you shall receive, as they say. I'm a pretty giving person. And believe you me, I can give _a lot_ if you'll let me." In a flash, his mouth was on hers and Adrian's mind was reeling. His lips were hard and leathery, his teeth clashed against hers painfully, and the taste of his tongue was like the one time she'd accidentally tasted curdled cream without having first checked the expiration date.

When he was through, he yanked her head away by her hair, but continued to hold her head in place. "Get one thing straight, bitch: I don't ask, I _take!_ I'm the man and I make the decisions here! You do things on my terms, got that?" When she didn't answer, he yanked at her hair. _"Got that?"_

"Y-yes!" Adrian yelped, her eyes tearing up at the feeling of her burning scalp.

"Good." He released her hair and held his gloved hand in front of her face, revealing that it was full of a wad of her hair. He flipped his hand over, letting the hair drift into her lap. Then he touched his hand to the side of her face, moved it down her chin, and let it drop to the collar of her top with his fingers curling inside.

For almost a full minute, Adrian sat like a stone statue, sure that he was going to drop his hand into her chest and fondle her, but then he merely removed his hand and returned to the bathroom, where she heard the toilet lid lift. She finally resolved to let her eyes bleed the tears they'd been holding back.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Just after six in the morning, Ricky's cell phone went off instead of his alarm clock. He hadn't slept all night, nor did he intend to sleep again until Adrian was back home where she belonged; safe like she should be, were it not for him. "Grace?" he answered.

"Oh, Ricky, thank God! I just saw my phone and got all the messages you left, you sounded so upset. What's wrong? What's going on? Did something happen with Adrian and the baby?" Her voice blew through the speakers like a rush of wind. "I'm so sorry I didn't get back to you last night, I turned the ringer on my phone to silent because I had all this reading homework to do for my history class and I didn't want to get distracted because I'd already been guilty of putting it off because Adrian wanted to sleepover last night, but had I known you were going to call me-"

"Grace!" he yelled, bringing her rant to a dead stop. "She's missing."

"_What?_ What do you mean, she just never came home?"

"I mean she's been kidnapped. Ben's father got a ransom note last night, but we haven't heard anything else."

"Oh my God! Oh my God, if I'd only turned on my phone-"

"It's not your fault, Grace. You had nothing to do with this. It's – it's mine."

"Ricky, you're not making any sense."

Ricky placed his hand to his forehead. "It's not something I can tell you over the phone," he sighed.

"What's your address? I'll have my mom take me to your house-"

"No!"

"But Ricky-"

"Nobody else should be involved in this, Grace. Especially not you. Look, maybe you should just stay home today? I've been around you too and I'm sure he knows that-"

"He who? Ricky, _please!_ I'm so lost here!"

"I'm going to hang up, Grace. And then I'm going to send you a photograph." Without allowing her to respond, he ended the call and quickly began to configure a text message stamped with the photograph he took of Bob: _Do whatever you have to do to stay home today, don't go outside, and if you see this man just run!_ Less than sixty seconds later, his phone began to ring again, but he just held it until the noise stopped. And then it pinged to warn him of a new text message. He debated the idea of not opening, but ultimately decided it could do no harm, as Grace wouldn't know either way.

_I've already seen him!_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The fan was going again and it had been for the last five minutes. Five minutes in which she spent trying to get her cell phone out of her pocket again. She could feel her inner sides of her index and middle fingers around the edges of her phone, but it was just to wide to get a good grasp on. Every time she thought she had it, it would slip back down as soon as she'd try to bring it up.

"Damnit!" she cursed under her breath. "What else…" Thinking quickly, she decided to rotate her fingers. Instead of trying to pull it out by the sides, she twisted her shoulders again until they were screaming in rage, and then she managed to flip her fingers around, this time pushing one down over the smooth LCD screen and the other down the back of the phone casing. She clapped her fingers as tight as she could and then began to pull. "Yes!" she breathed, inching the phone up and up and up until it breached the top of her pocket.

Adrian pulled the phone up as far as she could, then pushed herself against the wall, holding the up between her hip and the wall, then she released her fingers and pushed underneath the fabric of her pocket, pushing the phone out the remainder of the way. She hadn't even realized how long she'd been holding her breath until the phone plopped onto the floor. Still watching the bathroom door, she pressed the Power button and quickly sat on the phone to muffle the vibrating sound as it turned on. It continued to vibrate several more times, alerting her that she brought had several messages and/or texts, but she didn't have time for that.

Instead, her fingers traversed the buttons, re-familiarizing themselves with the phone face. There four buttons in the center shaped like arrows: up, down, left, and right. They also acted as shortcut keys. Feeling her way around, Adrian pressed the arrow pointing to the right, which she knew automatically opened up a blank text screen. Then, moving her fingers down to the keypad, she felt around for the grooves between the keys.

"Twelve buttons in total," she whispered to herself, envisioning the face of her phone in her mind's eye. Although the teachers at her school found it the bane of their existence that their students could text under the table thanks to having memorized the keypad of their phones, Adrian realized it just might be the key to ensuring her own existence. "The first three rows are one through nine and the last is star, zero, and pound. So all I have to do is find five, which should be dead center in the first three rows." So she moved her finger along the keys, they were smooth, but five always had two small raised bumps on it. "Gotcha!"

Wasting no time, she moved her finger along directly to the left of the five to the four and down once, to the seven, which she pressed. Then she moved her finger back up, over to the five, and over one more, to the six and pressed that too. Once more, she felt her way to the seven and pressed it again, then worked her fingers back up to the topmost button on the right of the right of the phone face and pressed it three times. "Please!" she whispered, shutting her eyes. "Please get this!" And with that, she pushed herself over her phone to resume sitting on it, for when her capture finally made his back out of the bathroom.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I had my parents turn the car around as soon as your message came in," Alice said as she, her boyfriend, and her best friend sat alone in Ben's kitchen.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," Henry said, voice strained. "It feels like something out of a horror flick."

"They just finished setting up a trace on the house phones before you guys got here," Ben said, staring dully at the plum jam covered toast on the plate in front of him. It had one bite out of it from when he had attempted to eat at his father's insistence, but he couldn't taste anything.

"Can't they trace her phone or something?"

"They tried that," Ben sighed. "But it was off, so no GPS signal."

"Any leads on Bob?" Henry questioned.

Ben shook his head. "But we did find out he's probably been stalking Adrian for a while, because Grace said that she saw him and Adrian talking yesterday at the Dairy Shack. He was sitting behind them in a booth and Adrian was so agitated afterwards that she wanted to leave before they even got a chance to eat. They have someone watching's Grace's house too, just in case. But it's likely that they already got what they wanted and now we just have to wait for them to contact us again about where to leave the ransom."

The table began to vibrate and the three teenagers jumped simultaneously at first, then all eye soon came to rest on the cellular device beside Ben. "Do you think that could be…"

Ben cautiously picked up the phone. "It's a text message." Confused, he opened it and nearly dropped the phone.

"What?" Alice and Henry asked unanimously.

"It's – it's from Adrian!" Ben was shaking as his two dearest friends crowded around to look over his shoulders as he opened the text. Immediately, his face contorted. _"What?"_

Henry jabbed his finger at the screen. "What the hell does 'seven-six-seven' mean?"

"An address? An area code?" Ben said uncertainly.

"Wait, but I thought you said her phone was off!" Henry suddenly exclaimed. "If it's on, it can be tracked, right? Ben!" He grabbed his friend by the arm, hauling him off the chair. "We need to get this to the authorities!"

Alice nodded in agreement, though her eyes were squinted and she was unusually quiet, even for her.

"Alice, you coming?" Henry asked.

"Right behind you," she nodded, following a few steps behind.

Ben pressed the cell phone to his chest. Too many things to process: the message, how Adrian sent it, if Adrian sent it, and what was going through Alice's computer brain. "Dad!" he hollered as they left the kitchen. "Dad! I think we may have a lead!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

About twenty minutes earlier Adrian had observed her captor receive a call that had had lasted for maybe five minutes and afterwards, he'd stormed out of the bathroom and appeared heavily distressed. First he'd broken a lamp, then tore out some dressers and hurled them about the room, and finally he'd overturned the bed's mattress in a rage. Then he'd looked at Adrian and for a second, she almost thought she was next to be torn into, but then he'd blown out the door only to return two minutes later, even angrier than when he'd left, because he'd forgotten his keys.

She'd been initially afraid to pull out her cell phone again for fear that he would come back and catch her if he'd also forgotten something else, but as the minutes ticked away, she realized that time was off the essence and she could not stand to wait any longer. With her stomach in knots, she scooted off her phone and began to feel up the keypad again. Her cell phone hadn't vibrated again with return correspondence, which was probably a good mood, in case her kidnapper had heard. But now she was beginning to worry as she felt around for the down arrow button, which was a shortcut to her call log. Once pressed, she felt for the Call button and it began to ring.

"Adrian?"

The Latina felt the breath catch in the back of her throat. Ricky's voice! It had to be the most beautiful thing she'd heard in twenty-four hours. "Ricky, thank God!" she whispered as loud as she could. "I've been kidnapped and I don't know where I am and I need your-"

The front door blew open, rattling the walls as it slammed against the wall behind it. The kidnapper charged in. "You little bitch!"

Adrian screamed on instinct and turned her head away as the kidnapper's open palmed hand came down across her face.

Then Ricky's voice bellowed from the cell speaker: "You stay away from-"

But the kidnappers snatched it up from the ground and threw it across the room, propelling it into the wall at full force. The battery snapped off and the phone itself fell to the ground, revealing a giant crack in the LCD screen. The kidnapper further proceeded to stop on it, until the cell itself was in several pieces beneath the sole of his shoe, then he returned his rage to Adrian. "You stupid bitch!" he screamed. The veins in his arms were swollen and visible as he charged at her, smacking her face from side to side before grabbing her hair and slamming her head against the wall.

Blood began to gush from Adrian's nose, thick as paint, running down her lips, chin, and soaking into her clothes. She stared defiantly back at her kidnapper with wild eyes, refusing to visibly cower in response to his abuse. The part of her that normally would have fought back, said something taunting or maybe even laughed, was dying to come out, but it wasn't just her life that was at stake anymore, so she remained silent, but the silence was message enough.

Further enraged by Adrian's body language, the kidnapper abandon his physical assault and flew into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Moments later, his voice could be heard screaming into his cell phone, amongst the sound of a shattering mirror and slamming toilet lid.

And Adrian began to laugh. Slow at first, then it grew, coming from her gut. The blood running over her lips mixed with spit, creating bloody bubbles as she cackled. Then she repositioned her legs and began to spit and held her head down over the carpet, allowing the blood from her nose to create a large red spot on the carpet, then she pushed herself up against the wall and began to rub her bloodied face against the white paint, leaving ghastly smears of blood and saliva up and down the wall. When she felt satisfied with herself, she scooted across the floor a few inches to un-bloodied section of the wall and began to systematically touch her spotless fingers to the paint, all the while laughing as she listened to her captor's rant from the bathroom, for he had been so upset that he'd forgotten to turn on the fan this time.


	16. Chocolate Hate

**A/N: **Another rated "R" chapter in this one, people. (I think it'll be the last for a while, though.) It's much more brutal, physically brutal, than the last one (and as with the warning in the first chapter, a lot of foul language in this chapter). Sorry to those who may want to skip this chapter because of that. I've purposely tried to give this story a darker edge to it than the actual series (partially because it's Adrian and not Amy and partially just because I think it's interesting to explore the darker, more twisted side of teenage existence). Also, again, sorry about the update delay. We can blame my weekend homework for that.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Chocolate Hate**

_Five-year-old Ricky Underwood could hear the sound of the microwave beeping as soon as he entered the apartment, followed by the sound of the refrigerator door and the tinkling of liquid moments before he trotted into the kitchen and found his mother's back to him. He dropped his backpack onto the table and scooted into the chair as she turned around, capping the milk carton. When she smiled at him, he looked away, choosing to stare at the grains in the wooden tabletop._

"_Hey, baby," Nora Underwood smiled uneasily. Her stringy brown hair was down and she wore only a little makeup, rouge and pink lipstick. "I made you some hot cocoa." Nora plucked a spoon from the drainer and stirred the drink into white and mocha swirls before sliding it in front of her son, who shook his head. She frowned. "I thought you liked cocoa?"_

"_Not thirsty," Ricky muttered, pushing the mug back at her. He grabbed for his backpack and pulled out a peechee folder. "Mrs. Jordann wants you to put your name on it."_

_Nora's face fell as she took the folder. "Alright, Ricky," she sighed. She opened the folder as she moved to the drawer for a pencil and stopped cold. "You got an F this week in conduct. What happened?"_

_Ricky ignored her, choosing instead to play with the zipper on his backpack._

"_Ricky, look at me! Why did you-" She visibly shook at the sound of the front door slamming, which sent a rattle throughout the entire apartment. Nora's hands gripped around the peechee folder as the thunder of footsteps neared the kitchen. "We'll talk about this later," she whispered, sliding her son's peechee folder back across the table._

_A moment later, Bob burst into the kitchen. He face was clean shaven, but he had a visible and freshly bled cut along his cheek. His jaw was set and he had a carnivorous look on his face, as though he were a bear on his haunches._

"_Bob!" Nora gasped. "What happened?" She rushed to his side and reached for his cheek. "Your cheek-"_

_Bob grasped her wrist before she could touch him and his knuckles turned white as they gripped her._

"_B-ob!" she gasped. "Y-you're hurting me!"_

"_You think that's pain?" he growled, a fine spray of spit hitting her in the face. He shoved her backwards into the kitchen table, only then releasing her wrist. "You don't understand a thing about pain! You just stay at home all day playing housewife while I'm out there working my ass off trying to provide for everyone in this household and what do I get in return? Fired!"_

"_Wh-what happened?" Nora shuddered as she rubbed her red wrist, trying to blink back the sting in her eyes. "How did you-"_

"_Shut up!" Bob stormed across the kitchen and grabbed the mug of hot cocoa from the table, splattering half of it across Ricky's peechee folder. "What is this?" he demanded, sniffing it and then throwing the mug to the floor with an ear shattering crash. "This is why we're broke all the time, Nora! You think we can just spend money on candy and treats!" His eyes bolted to Ricky. "You coddle the boy!" Bob suddenly grabbed Ricky by the chin, forcing his son to look up at him. "She coddles you, doesn't she? Doesn't she?"_

"_I'm sorry!" Nora yelped. "I'm sorry, I – I didn't realize! I'll be more careful. I'll – I'll go out and get a job, I'll help you-" But before she was able to finish, Bob's hand landed with a searing crack across her cheek._

"_You're not leaving this house!" he screamed. "This is my house and you're my wife! You do what I say, when I say!" He grabbed a clump of her hair and pulled her into his face. "Do you understand me?"_

"_Yes! Yes!" Nora nodded frantically. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Bob!" She stumbled back when he released her and lighting touched the red handprint on her face._

"_And what about you?" Bob growled, rounding on his son. "Are you just gonna sit there like a little bitch while this shit drips all over you?" he hissed, rushing his hand across the spilt milk on the table and splashing it into Ricky's face._

_Ricky quickly shook his head and jumped to his feet, running towards the oven to get the dish towel from the handle. Upon his return to the table, he began to mop up the spilt chocolate with the towel, until Bob's hand pounded against the back of his head._

"_What's wrong with you?"_

"_Bob!"_

"_Shut up!" He grabbed the towel from Ricky and shoved it into the boy's face. "Don't you know this is going to stain? What's wrong with you? You pathetic little shit! Is this how your mother's been raising you while I've been trying to keep our heads above water? Get up to your room!"_

_Turning on his heel, Ricky made a breakneck escape for his room. As he ran up the stairs, he heard crashes and shatters from the kitchen, followed by his mother's pleads which soon devolved into terrified screams._

The sound of his cell phone cut through his memories. Retrieving it immediately, Ricky realized it was Ben. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"They got a trace! They got an _address!_"

"Where?"

"I don't know, they wouldn't tell me, they said we couldn't be go, that it would be too dangerous. But they were able to briefly track the GPS on Adrian's cell phone before it went out. They're gonna get her!"

Ricky could vaguely hear another voice in the background, it sounded male, but he couldn't make out whose it was. He could, however, hear that it sounded like whoever it was, was telling Ben that Adrian would be okay. "You don't know him," he muttered in an instinctive response.

"What?" Ben's voice asked in reply.

"Nothing." Ricky replied automatically. "Never mind. Thanks. I gotta go."

"I call you again when if I find out anything else."

Ricky hung up without responding. He needed that address and he needed it now! "Mom!" he hollered, jumping up from his bed. "Mom! I need that number for Officer Diablo!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"He hung up on me," Ben said, lifting his eyes to Henry and flashing him the screen on his cell phone which revealed that the call had ended.

"Help!"

Confused, Ben and Henry looked at each other, and then looked at Alice, who had been sitting at Ben's desk staring at her cell phone for the last half hour. "What?"

"I am such an idiot!" Alice yelled. "It's so obvious now!" She jumped up and shoved her cell phone into the boys' faces. "She was asking for help! 'Seven-six-seven,'" she said, pointing out the numbers on the keypad. "'S-O-S!'"

Ben grabbed Alice's phone and looked at the miniature letters beneath the numbers. There was no other way to explain it; she was right. His face scrunched up. "And she sent it to me?" he whispered. Looking at Alice in bewilderment as he questioned, "Why not Ricky? Why not her mother? Why _me?_"

Before the question had the chance to be pondered on, the house phone began to ring, prompting all three teenagers' attentions. "Do you think that's-"

"The kidnapper?"

Ben swallowed the lump in his throat. "Let's go downstairs," he whispered nervously. "I want to be there when my dad answers the phone…"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Officer Diablo!" Ricky yelled as he burst through the noisy police station.

The officer in question was at the water cooler, filling a water bottle. He turned at the sound of Ricky's voice and greeted him with a sympathetic smile. "We're doing all we can-"

"I was told you got a trace on Adrian's cell phone."

"We did," he nodded.

"I need the address."

"This is an official investigation, I'm afraid I can't-"

"This is my father! My _rapist_ father. I _deserve_ to be there when you get Adrian back!"

A few people in the immediate vicinity got quiet and looked their way, prompting Officer Diablo to look the other way. "Why don't we go talk in a more private setting?"

"Where you'll give me the address?" 

"I already told you, that's something you can't have."

"Then take me there yourself!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Underwood," the officer said in exasperation. "I don't know how to make this anymore clear! I _can't_-"

"Officer Diablo! Nice to see you again."

Ricky watched as a tall Mexican man in an expensive suit and tie strode up and shook the officer's hand. He studied the man with interest, seconds away from interrupting, when the gentleman began to speak again.

"Why don't you let me help Mr. Underwood?" he suggested. He turned to Ricky and motioned his hand, "Why don't we go this way to talk about Adrian?"

Ricky bit his tongue and nodded, following the Mexican man into a vacant room which the latter closed the door to. "Who are you?" he demanded, as soon as they were alone.

"Distract Attorney Ruben Enriquez," he introduced, holding out his hand. "And you would be Richard Underwood?"

"Ricky."

"It's my pleasure."

"Do me a favor and cut the pleasantries. If you know my name, then you obviously know what's going on here…although I'm not quite sure how, since this isn't hasn't got to the point of court yet."

Ruben gave a smooth smile. "Let's just classify my early involvement in this case as 'special circumstances.'"

"Well you're not the only one. I have a special stake in this case too." He looked down, fearing he was going to regret what he was about to say next. "So does Ben Boykewich." He looked up again, locking eyes with the district attorney. "As you heard me tell Officer Diablo, I _need_ that address. Ben and I should be there to bring Adrian home."

Ruben nodded. "I understand." He was momentarily silent, then sighed. "Look, I can't give you the address-" he held up his hand at Ricky's mouth that was opening to protest "-but I _can_ take you there myself. Adrian's mother, Cindy Lee, will be accompanying us, however." He looked at his watch. "In fact, she should be arriving any minute now."

Ricky narrowed his eyes. "Why are you willing to do this for me?" he asked suddenly. "What's the catch?"

"There's no catch," Ruben replied and the look in his eyes told Ricky he wasn't lying.

"Then why?"

"I empathize with you."

"What," Ricky scoffed, "you had an abusive child molester for a father too?"

"No," Ruben sighed. "I _am_ a father…and I know what it's like to be driven mad not knowing about the safety of your child and the mother of that child."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

_His room was pitch black save for a single night light on the floor near the heater, which he liked to sit on to keep warm at night. Ricky was almost asleep when the sound of the slamming front door kicked him back from the edge of slumber. The heater vent was like a megaphone that connected the whole house, so everything that was said from downstairs came through loud and clear into his room._

"_How did the interviews go?" Nora asked, her voice attempting to sound as cheerful as possible._

"_How do you think they went?" Bob's voice thundered in return. Something shattered and Nora screamed. "Where's the boy?"_

"_He's – he's sleeping-"_

"_I asked where he is, not what he's doing!"_

"_In his room, but please Bob, don't wake him-"_

_Ricky jumped as he heard another crash and quickly scampered into his bed, pretending to be asleep. "Please don't! Please don't! Please don't!" he begged into his pillow. But he could hear what sounded like hooves from the hallway and then his bedroom door burst open. Ricky closed his eyes, lying as still as he could, then he felt Bob's alcoholic breath on the nape of his neck._

"_You lazy son of a bitch," Bob growled, ripping the covers off of his son. "Did you think I wouldn't find out about that little F of yours? Did you think you could just fuck off and get away with it?" He raised his hand, smacking Ricky across the face. "Well I'll show you what real fucking off is!" he thunder, slamming the bedroom door. "It's time you learn how hard it is to be a man in the world!"_

Ricky's cheek pounded against the window as a pothole jarred him from his thoughts. He quickly sat upright and took in the surroundings as the car pulled off the road: it was an offbeat, ramshackle motel off the main highway, essentially out in the middle of nowhere. When they arrived – Ruben driving, with Cindy in the front passenger seat and Ben and Ricky in the back – the whole area was covered in flashing blue and red lights and there was one ambulance off to the side.

Ruben stopped his car on a patch of rough gravel and killed the engine. "Stay in the car," he warned his three passengers. "I'll be right back."

Ricky looked at Ben, who had his face pressed to the window. The latter was sitting behind Adrian's mother, who he could hear softly sobbing from the front seat. He tried to look over Ben's head to see out Ben's window, amongst the strobe-like police lights and checkerboard of cop cars. His eyes kept going back to the ambulance. Finally he deemed it useless; waiting in the car wasn't getting him anywhere, so he reached for the door.

"He said to stay in the car!" Ben protested.

"Do you always do what your told?" Ricky snapped back. There was no option for Ben to answer before he spoke again, because they both already knew the truth. "I didn't think so." He slammed the door.

Ben remained seated. He heard Cindy jump and let out another wracked cry at the sound of the slamming door. He hesitated, then pulled his seatbelt. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lee. But if you District Attorney Enriquez comes back, could you tell him I'm sorry?" He didn't really wait for an answer, because Ricky was already disappearing into the seat of cops, so he jumped out and ran after him.

Ricky went straight over to the ambulance, but the back doors were closed, so he crossed around to the cab, only to find that it was empty. Then he spun on his heel and looked dead ahead to the motel. There was only one door open and yellow police tape was strewn across it. He made a beeline for it.

"Ricky!" Ben hissed. "You're going to get us in trouble!"

"I'm already in trouble. And besides, you didn't have to follow me. You can go back to the car, but I'm going in."

Ben looked back over his shoulder. He didn't see Ruben anywhere. He angrily kicked the ground and scurried after the drummer, hoping that he wouldn't end up getting arrested for this.

Ricky stopped at the doorway of the motel room and peered inside. His eyes swept over the carnage: broken drawers, shattered lamp, strewn pillows, overturned mattress, and various empty beer cans and liquor bottles strewn about the floor. "He's been in one of his rages," he said unconsciously.

But the thing that caught Ben's attention was the woman who was across the room, doing something with the wall. Ben watched her rise and then realized with the utmost horror, the wall that she'd been standing in front of was smeared with blood. He grabbed Ricky's sleeve and pointed, unable to speak.

Ricky instinctively touched his nose, then leaned against the doorframe for support. "I'll kill him!"

"What are you two doing over here?" Ruben's voice boomed. "I told you to stay in the car!" He grabbed them both boys by the shoulders and directed them back towards the car. "I can't risk you contaminating the crime scene!"

"I've got something over here!"

Ricky looked back, but Ruben forcefully pushed him away. "Go back to the car. Now! _I'll_ find out what it is."

Ben dropped his head to his chest and followed Ricky back to the car, staring at his shoes. But no sooner had they both climbed in did Ruben coming running back, almost completely out of breath. "What's going-"

"Ricky, you said you saw Bob's car when he confronted you at school, correct?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I need you to tell me what it looked like and then I need all three of you get out of the car."

"What?" Ricky seethed. "No!"

"Ricky!" Ruben shouted. "This is important! I need to know-"

"I'll be happy to tell you what you want to know, but I'm not getting out of the car!"

Frustrated, Ruben punched the door. "F-_fine!_ Get buckled!"

Ben pulled his seatbelt around himself and realized there was a flurry of commotion going on outside as well, with officers getting into their cars and sirens sounding. Judging by the way the car jerked onto the road, Ben suspected that Ruben was lead footing the gas. "What did you find in there?"

"_Ruben!"_ Cindy shrieked, clinging to the overhead handle for support as the car jumped up to sixty and then to seventy.

"We're going to get Adrian!"

"What?" Ricky blinked. "But – how? How do you know where she is?"

"Because she's goddamn _brilliant!_"

Following Cindy's lead, Ben grabbed onto the overhead handle and turned to look over his shoulder, where several police cars were following them with their lights and sirens in the distance. By that time they were going so fast he could feel himself being pushed into his seat and he feared to think of what the speedometer was reading. "Where're we going?"

"Josh's Peak!" Ruben hollered. "It's the mouth of a campground about five miles from the motel!"

As they neared their destination, Ben noticed that the cop cars had turned off their sirens, though their lights were still whirling. He was almost beginning to feel a little seasick by the fourth mile. Then he noticed a road sign, noting that Josh's Peak was in a half a mile. His heart thumped and he looked back at the entourage again. This time their lights were off and most had fallen behind, save for two that were keeping their distance. "I don't understand, why aren't they following us?"

"They're holding back in case Bob tries to make a run for it."

"Then what are _we_ doing?"

"Haven't you ever heard of the element of surprise? If he hears or sees a bunch of cop cars, there's no telling where or what he might do to Adrian in order to get away!" Ruben took the turn off into Josh's Peak campgrounds and slowed his pace considerably. He leaned over and opened the glove box, pulling out a small handgun that he tucked into a concealed strap on his person. "Ricky, the description of Bob's car!"

"It's green, like a toxic waste green with black designs."

Ruben suddenly stopped the car and started to climb out.

"What are you doing!" Cindy cried, high pitched.

Ruben pointed to the dirt trails making the divergent paths around the camp ground. "I'm going to check for fresh car tracks. Stay here."

From the back seat, Ben leaned forward as far as he could so he could watch what Ruben was doing via the front window shield. From Ben's vantage point, he could see the DA crouching down on the ground at the T in the road, then he turned saw him stand up again and head back for the car. The fifteen-year-old straightened his posture as the older man got back inside.

"There's definitely tire tread leading this way," Ruben said, steering left. He followed the tire tracks around the winding road at a syrup slow pace until they came to a bend and as they started to curve around, Ricky's voice boomed through the car.

"That's his!"

Sure enough, Bob's car was parked just off the main trail, under a couple of pine trees. Reclined in the passenger seat with sunglasses on was Bob.

Ruben pulled off to the side of the road, but didn't kill the engine. "Here's the deal," he said, not once taking his eyes off Bob's car, even though it hadn't appeared that Bob had noticed them yet. "I'm going to approach under the guise of a civilian and I'm going to try to get him out of the car. Cindy, you're going to get out when I get out and you're going to get into the driver's seat. If anything goes wrong, you're going to get the hell out of here. Do you understand?"

"Ruben-"

"Do. You. Understand?"

Cindy hesitantly nodded. "What if he's armed?"

"I'll be armed too. I'm going to try to get him to roll down his window or at the least get him out of his car so I can spring my gun on him. Once he's apprehended, we'll be able to look for Adrian."

"What about us?" Ricky demanded.

"Stay in the car."

"With all due respect, Sir…" Ben unbuckled himself and leaned forward, pulling off the sweater he was wearing and holding it out to Ruben. "You don't _look_ like a civilian, not in a suit and tie. Not like someone who belongs in a campground anyway."

Ricky scoffed and shoved Ben's sweater back at him. "He's not going to look any better dressed up in that ridiculous little sweater either, especially when it won't fit him. Take off your jacket and tie," Ricky said, looking at Ruben's eyes in the rearview mirror. He slid off the Grant High Lancers hoodie to the DA.

Ben glared. "Like that's any better. Of course he's going to pass for being a student!"

"He could have a kid that goes there, he doesn't have to be a student," Ricky fired back.

"Stop it!" Cindy snarled. "We're supposed to be focusing on my daughter!"

"She's right." Ruben snatched up the hoodie, following Ricky's advice, and pulled the hoodie on over his white dress shirt, then he slipped his small handgun into the large front pocket. He opened his door, motioned for Cindy to do the same, and a moment later Cindy was securely in the driver's seat with the doors locked while Ruben was casually heading towards Bob's car.

From the corner of his eye, Ben noticed Ricky was reaching for the handle on the door. He looked back up at the window to see that Ruben was knocking on Bob's window and that the latter sat up and rolled down his window just an inch or so and seemed to be talking, then stopped and Ruben began to gesture, after which Bob began to move his mouth again. Shifting his eyes back to Ricky, he realized that the drummer was leaning down on the door handle. "Ricky, don't!" He grabbed for Ricky's arm, but the older boy pushed his hand away, shoved the door open, and climbed out without Ben being able to say or do anything to stop him.

Ben jumped up as Cindy gripped the steering wheel and tried to look out the back window and then the back passenger windows, but Ricky was nowhere in sight. "Do you see him up there?"

"Shh! I don't see him anywhere!"

Ben leaned between the front seats, watching the green car. From what he could see, Bob and Ruben still seemed to be going back and forth, but Bob hadn't budged from his seat, nor rolled the window down any further. Angrily, Ben kicked the back of the seat. "He's gonna screw this whole thing up!" As if on cue, he realized that in the distance, he could see Ricky sneaking up through the trees on the opposite side – the passenger side – of Bob's car and Ben realized he must have slipped around the long way, so he could sneak up on Bob while he was distracted by Ruben.

The fifteen-year-old sucked in his breath and held it as a sudden shattering of glass and commotion could be heard. Ben shoved open the other passenger door and jumped out, running towards the car as Ruben drew his gun, but from what Ben could tell, the main action was happening on the inside of the car, where both Bob and Ricky were, with the latter landing blow after blow to biological father.

Ruben charged to the other side of the car, where Ricky had snuck up from behind and struck a punch through the window. He reached through the broken frame and unlocked the door. The passenger seat was covered in bloody glass and Ricky had managed to straddle Bob.

"You bastard! You goddamn fucker!" The veins in his neck were pulsating and enflamed and Ricky's right fist was bleeding profusely from the broken glass, which was spattering about the car each time he took another slug into Bob's face or chest. Bob's own blood was also was also beginning to mix with Ricky's each time the teenager landed a pulverizing blow. "Where is she? Where the hell is Adrian?"

Ruben hit the button on the passenger door to unlock the driver's side door and moved back around, yanking open the driver's side and wrapping his arms around Ricky's waist, forcing him off Bob and throwing him to the ground. Ruben promptly aimed his gun at Bob, who was still strapped into his reclined seat, near unconscious and looking like a hunk of bloody meat. "Where's Adrian?"

"Adrian! Adrian!" Ben began to shout.

Ricky, chest heaving and covered in blood, scrambled to his feet, forming fists that he was ready to use on Bob again. "Tell us where she is!"

A sudden thudding came from the trunk and for a split second Ruben and the two teenagers looked at one another, then Ruben – not once taking his aim off Bob – lunged for the trunk latch, which opened with a groaning pop.

Being closer, Ben bolted towards the trunk and pushed it the remainder of the way open, where he found Adrian squinting up at him, hands and feet still bound, with a gag in her mouth. Her clothes were covered in partially dried blood and her face from her nose to her chin was covered in flaking dried blood. Ben leaned forward, aghast at the sight, and realized Adrian had tears in her eyes. "Hey," he whispered, overcome with emotion himself. "We got your text," he said, leaning in and scooping one arm under her bound legs and the other under her back. "I'm here to _help_."

Gritting his teeth and using all his strength, he lifted Adrian out of the trunk and struggled to carry her back to Ruben's car. When he thought he couldn't make it and might drop her halfway there, he looked at her face and wracked form again and a felt a spike of adrenaline course through him: if she could survive what she had been through, then he could – and would – take her all the way back to a lousy car. "Don't worry, you're going to be fine," he assured as the sound of sirens filled the air, followed by flashing lights. At the car, he was met by Cindy, who had the back door open and helped him lift Adrian inside. "Too little, too late," he said, nodding towards the cop cars.

Cindy nodded to Ruben's cell phone as she and Ben struggled to take off Adrian's gag and remove the bindings on her wrists. "They called, asking what the hold up was, and I as soon as I told them what was going on they said they were already on their way, so I gave them directions down the left trail." She tossed away the gag, but was unsuccessful in removing the bindings on Adrian's hands. Nevertheless, she embraced her daughter and began to weep in relief that Adrian was alive and back in her arms again.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Two weeks after the abduction, the swelling in her face had gone down considerably, and except for a smattering of cuts and bruises that she'd been covering with concealer and other makeup. But today she had refused to anything up. She snapped her compact closed and slipped it into her pocket and began to examine her wrists, which were bruised and cut from the bindings that had been on them. She'd picked out a short sleeved purple top on purpose to accentuate the color of the bruises and wore a skirt and heeled sandals, so that the circular cut that went all the way around her ankle from the handcuffs was prominently visible.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Miss Lee?"

"I didn't ask the District Attorney Enriquez to get me this opportunity just to back out now."

"That way, Ms. Lee…"

Adrian pushed herself up from the chair and followed the guard down a long corridor where he brought her to a single door and opened it. She stepped in gracefully and spotted Bob sitting alone at a table in an orange suit and shackles on his hands and feet. She smiled. "My, my, how the tables have turned." Her heels made an echoing moan like ghosts as she moved across the room to face him.

Ricky's beating had done a number on him. Bob's face looked no better than raw hamburger that had been left open to the air for several days, both his eyes were black, he sported so many stitches he rivaled Frankenstein, and to top it all off he wore a nose cast.

Adrian tugged a small paper bag out from under her arm and held it in front of Bob's face. "Did they ever tell you how they found you?" she asked, flashing her teeth like a shark circling her prey. She turned the paper bag over and slid out two photographs. The first she held up revealed the wall and floor with the bloody smears. "Remember that bloody nose you gave me?" Adrian pushed the picture towards him. "Well I should thank you, because I knew they'd come with their black lights and their fingerprint dusting kits, so I made sure to put all that blood to good use." She lifted the second picture to his face, this time revealing a picture of the same wall, but under black light. In bright fluorescent coloring was the smudged message: _JOSH'S PEAK 6:00 PM!_

The teenager pushed that photo towards him too, grinning madly. "You forgot to turn on the fan, Bob. So all I had to do was leave a big bloody arrow pointing right to the spot I wanted them to look and then…" She lifted her hands, wiggling her fingers. "I just left a little message with my fingerprints." Adrian leaned in close enough to Bob's face so that he could feel the spray of her spit. _"Who's the stupid bitch now?"_


	17. Unforgiven And Unforgotten

**A/N: **To answer the question about the fan, Bob would go into the bathroom and turn on the fan while he was on the phone so that it would mask the conversation, so Adrian couldn't hear what he was talking about in the next room. (He was, actually, planning to return her once he got the ransom, hence the reason he was keeping his identity concealed from her.) But when he got mad, he got distracted. First he forgot his keys, then Adrian further angered him by revealing that she was trying to use her phone to get help, so he had to come up with an impromptu Plan B which is what he went into the bathroom to do, but he forgot to turn on the fan because he was so angry and not thinking clearly, so Adrian overheard him telling the person he was on the phone (which would be the guy who abducted Adrian when her car got the flat) with where they were supposed to meet up (Josh's Peak at six). Oh, and a little bit later into this chapter, the middle school thing is a program that actually exists around my local area, so I thought it seemed like a realistic way to go.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Unforgiven And Unforgotten**

"What is a 'reveal party'?"

Ben whirled around, surprised to hear Ricky's voice behind him. In the month since Adrian's abduction by Ricky's biological father, they had spoken minimally, which Ben had been thankful for. It had been less awkward knowing and hating him before he'd learned the truth about Bob, now when he saw him, he couldn't hate him and yet he couldn't like him either, so he never knew what to say. "Uh–"

"It's a party thrown by expectant parents to reveal the sex of their unborn baby to their friends and family. Typically, the sex of the child is written down on a piece of paper and given to a baker who then bakes either a pink cake or a blue cake and when the parents cut into the cake at the reveal party, everyone finds out what the baby will be by the color of the cake."

Ben pointed to Alice and nodded. "What she said."

Ricky wrinkled his nose. "Do you have to bring gifts or something?"

Alice shook her head. "It's not a baby shower, no."

"Did you know about this?" Ricky asked, holding up an invitation with two giraffes on the front, one pink and one blue.

Ben pulled open his locker and retrieved an envelope the same size as the invitation Ricky was holding. "No, but I have a pretty good idea about what this is then. Found it in my locker just a few minutes ago."

"She didn't even tell me she'd had the ultrasound."

"She has been staying home a lot more lately," Ben replied. "Since…everything."

Ricky narrowed his eyes. "I know that, but she could have at least_ mentioned_ it. Or had the decency to deliver these _invitations_ to our faces. This seems ridiculous anyway. Why would you throw a party to reveal the gender of a baby? That seems like something the parents should get to know first. If at all."

"Sex," Alice corrected, which earned her a nasty glare. "_Gender_ is the societal expectations of being a 'man' or 'woman,' 'girl' or 'boy,' while _sex_ is the biological classification of 'female' or 'male.' Although, to be fair, gendering goes hand-in-hand with sex as soon as it's assigned, but-"

"Thanks, Alice," Ben interrupted uneasily. "And…in all fairness," he said, avoiding eye contact with the drummer, "it'd be a little awkward if all three of us were in the room finding out the sex of the baby, don't you think?" He shrugged. "Maybe it's more comfortable for her to have us find out this way." He closed his locker and began to open his invitation. "Does it say how many people are coming?"

"Just 'family.'" He opened his card and flashed it at Ben. At the top it read: _To Ricky and Family_. "I'm assuming me, my foster parents, you, your father, Ms. Lee, and Adrian.

"When is it?" Alice asked curiously.

"This Friday," Ben and Ricky spoke at the same time.

The Asian teen smiled awkwardly and patted Ben's arm as she saw Henry coming towards them. "Well I'll just leave you here to talk then," she said before speeding off to greet Henry and turning him away from Ben and Ricky.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What is this?" Adrian asked, running the flat edge of her manicured nail under the black font on a neon blue piece of paper.

"I think I found you a job," Mr. Molina smiled proudly. "Granted, it's not a full time job and it's only a couple days a week – no insurance – but you will get a little spending cash and a few valuable things to put on a resume."

Adrian raised her eyebrows. "Tutoring?" she asked skeptically.

"With your grades, especially in writing and English – plus being bilingual – you're a shoe in! I've already spoken with the counselor at the middle school about it and she's ready to recommend your name if you're willing."

"What, exactly, would I be doing? Would I have one person that I work with regularly or something?"

"The middle school has a tutoring section in the library after hours, so the tutors just make themselves available there for whatever students come in for. It only pays about ten dollars an hour and you'd only be there two hours three days a week, after school. If that would work with your schedule."

Adrian pressed her hand to her chest, releasing an astonished cough. "Are you kidding?" she choked. "That would be – _incredible_. I mean, it's not much, but it's _some_thing. I don't have anything filling my time after hours since I've had to quit the majorettes and although I have submitted some job applications, I haven't heard anything back. That or the ones that I thought sounded promising I don't meet the age requirement for."

"So you're up for this, then?" Mr. Molina asked with a grin.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

Mr. Molina frowned. "I just wanted to make sure," he said cautiously. "After everything you went through last month…I'd understand if you didn't feel comfortable-"

"Bob's back in prison," Adrian interrupted, her voice suddenly frigid. "He can't hurt me anymore, Ricky and D.A. Enriquez made sure of that…and I can't stay at home forever, otherwise that just means he won in the end anyway, right?"

The counselor nodded his head. "I see your point." He rested his hand on the phone receiver. "I'll make the call. Although, if you have any reservations in the future – if it's not working out, not what you expected, you don't feel comfortable – don't hesitate to let me know, alright?"

Adrian nodded. "How early could I start?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll try to get back to you by the end of today, alright? If you don't hear back from me, I promise we'll be in touch tomorrow at my earliest."

Adrian pressed the palms of her hands to the edge of the desk and pushed herself up, revealing her roughly six-months-pregnant belly. She laid her hand across the top her belly unconsciously and closed her eyes for a beat.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Molina asked, suddenly on his feet and ready to be at Adrian's aid.

The Latina shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine. Just low blood pressure, that's all. The doctor says it's pregnancy induced and should go away after the birth, it's just that sometimes when I stand up too quickly, my head just gets a little…" She wiggled her hand back and forth to the side of her head, unable to articulate herself. "Fine now, see?" she said, emphasizing her words by motioning her hand up and down from her head to her torso.

Mr. Molina looked her up and down skeptically before finally giving a nod of approval. "Don't hesitate to stop by the nurse's if you're feeling faint," he said as she turned to leave.

Adrian smiled behind a sheath of black hair. "Thanks for your concern, counselor."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"There's something wrong with him," Henry whispered at lunch while leaning into his girlfriend's shoulder.

"I know," Alice agreed, equally hushed. "He's acting so much…"

"Cherrier-er."

"That's not a word," Alice frowned disapprovingly.

"Guys, I'm sitting _right here_," Ben announced without looking up from his cell phone.

Henry peered over Ben's shoulder. "Are you texting someone? You're always on your phone these days, you never talk to us anymore."

"As if you're one to speak," Ben frowned, finally looking up. "You and Alice are constantly on your laptops I-M-ing each other, so why should it even bother you?"

Alice folded her arms. "So what are you doing then?"

Ben pushed his phone across the table. "What do you think?" he asked. "My dad and I have been thinking about getting a crib for Adrian." He looked down. "For the baby, I mean."

Alice blinked. "Wow, Ben, that's almost three-hundred dollars."

"Yeah, but read it! It's convertible, so you can turn it into an actual bed when the baby outgrows the crib. I mean, sure, it's kind of expensive now, but doesn't it _save_ money in the long run?" He watched his friends look suspiciously at one another and glared. _"What?"_

"You just seem…I don't know…" Henry mumbled.

"Excited."

"Yeah," Henry nodded.

"So?"

"_Why?"_ Henry blurted out.

"Why not?"

"It just seems illogical," Alice replied, handing his phone back to him. "I mean, you've been so torn up about everything since you found out about Adrian and now you're like, 'Yay! Baby power!' What gives, Ben? It seems like – after _recent events_ – you'd be even less inclined-"

"That's the thing," Ben interrupted. "I can't really explain it. But I feel like – like…maybe Adrian trusts me more than I thought? Don't get me wrong, okay? It's not like I _want_ to have a baby in high school, but…ever since she texted me when Bob had her, I've just I – I feel like maybe she does have some kind of respect for me, you know? Like maybe I wasn't just her…" He looked down at the photo of the crib on his phone again. "Can't you two just be supportive?" he asked suddenly. "I'm trying to work with the cards I've been dealt, can't you just not be critical of that?"

Alice relaxed her shoulders and looked down at her half eaten peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich guiltily. "Sure, Ben," she sighed. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Henry grunted and gripped the edge of the table with a glare aimed at his girlfriend, then nodded. "Sure, man. We're here for you," he agreed, without completely taking his eyes off Alice.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ricky won't know that I'm here, will he?" Adrian squirmed on the couch after school, avoiding eye contact with Dr. Fields. "I know Mrs. Shakur highly recommended you, but I feel a little…it kind of feels like a betrayal, you know? And – and I don't want Ricky to know."

"I don't discuss my patients with anyone they don't give me permission to discuss them with," Dr. Fields assured. "And I also won't see Ricky today, I've intentionally booked both of you on separate days so there would be no overlap and hence no potential awkwardness of running into one another. But, if you still don't feel comfortable, I would be glad to give you the name and number of alternative therapists."

Adrian shook her head. "No, it's okay." She smiled awkwardly and grabbed a pillow to lay across her belly. "Thank you, though. I've already seen you twice now, so what's the use in switching therapists at this point anyway? I'm just…nervous, that's all."

"Which is understandable, you went through quite a traumatic experience."

Adrian nodded. "Sometimes I still see him. In my head, I mean. Just little thinks will tick off a flashback, like seeing a loose nail in the wall and thinking of my popped tire or getting a runny nose and touching my face expecting to see blood on my fingers."

"Does that scare you?"

"I'm not so sure 'scare' is the right word. It's not like I'm afraid he'll come back. He and his accomplice, the one who physically kidnapped me and sent the ransom note, are both back in prison and locked up tight, so I'm not worried about them…"

"But?"

"But," Adrian sighed, "it just serves as a reminder of something else that I can't depend on; can't trust."

"What do you mean?"

"Well my whole life has been about a lack of trust: my dad up and leaving my mom before I was ever born, my mother constantly working so she could provide for us, my grandparents resenting me for bastardizing the family, my best friend Antonio for getting cancer and disappearing from my life, being the no-strings-attached School Slut, and then getting pregnant with a baby and I don't even know who the father is. It lacks…maybe trust isn't the right word? Stability, perhaps? Yeah, _stability_. I've never had anything truly stable in my life, nothing that lasts. And after what happened, it feels like I don't even have the stability of my own mind anymore. For example, for about a week or so before the abduction, I kept having this strange feeling, the one that you get when you feel like people are watching you, but I kept dismissing it. I don't have the mental stability to even trust _myself_." She cocked her head to the side. "Maybe 'trust' was the right word after all? _See?_ I can't even settle on a simple word!"

Dr. Fields nodded understandingly. "This is perfectly normal, Adrian. You're in a very unique situation-"

"But it's problematic," she cut in, frustrated. "I keep second guessing everything I do. Maybe not right away, but eventually. Like with seeing you or Ben or-"

"Ben?" he asked, brows lifting curiously.

"Yeah," Adrian blustered. "Ben. I – we've been talking a little more in the last month. Not a lot, mind you, just a little, but he texts me occasionally now. He just asks little things, like how am I or something; small talk. I think I gave him the wrong impression."

"How do you mean?"

"When I saw him last week at school, he asked me how the baby was and…some other stuff, I can't recall. But then he mentioned the text I'd sent him when Bob had me, how he was so glad that I had texted him…like it really meant something to him, you know?"

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Well, no, not by itself…but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I didn't even send it to him on purpose." At the doctor's confused look, Adrian pulled out her phone and brought up her contacts, revealing the top name on her list to be _Ben Boykewich_. "It's alphabetical by first name," she sighed. "So him getting my text was purposeful in that I wanted someone to help me, but _him_ getting my text was completely by chance. Grace would've got it instead, if it was alphabetical by last name. "

"So you're feeling guilty that you haven't been completely honest with him?"

"That. And that maybe I'm – I'm even _looking forward_ to his texts and hellos in the hallway. But it's all under a false pretense."

"I understand your inner conflict," he nodded. "But maybe you should still embrace this new relationship? Don't misunderstand, I'm not advocating deception, but I do believe that you _should_ have a relationship with Ben. Not necessarily a romantic one or even a friendship, but this boy has just as much chance of being the father as Ricky does, and you should take that into careful consideration."

"It just seems wrong. I'm no stranger to wrong, but at least when I've done things wrong before, I knew it and I _didn't care_. This is different." Adrian hugged the pillow a little tighter to her belly. "I don't want to talk about Ben and Ricky anymore."

Dr. Fields glanced at his clock. "We still have ten minutes left. Is there anything else on your mind?"

Adrian nodded. "The school counselor, Mr. Molina? He got me a job today. Not anything huge, not even 'part time' technically."

"Congratulations."

"It's at the middle school, tutoring."

"Are you worried about this?"

"A little bit," the Latina admitted. "Not about the tutoring itself, but just about the commuting. I've been staying at home more, since Bob. I want to do this, I really do…but ever since I said agreed, I've just been thinking about all the things that could happen. 'What if? What if? What if?' It's just another one of those things that I can't settle my mind on."

"I think the socialization and the feeling of helping others might be good for you," Dr. Fields said slowly. "But it would be understandable if you felt unease. It has only been a month."

"I know. And I just keep having to remind myself that I can't let him win."

"While I understand that," the doctor replied cautiously. "You also have to understand that not everything is about winning, Adrian. Sometimes the things that are best for you turn out to be the losses."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, Ricky!" Grace chirped, running up to him as band practice ended.

Ricky quickened his pace across the grassy football field. "What are you still doing here, Grace? I thought cheerleading practice ended an hour ago."

"I thought I'd wait," she said, jogging to keep up with him. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine." He caught her glancing at his hands, which still had faint yellow bruises on the knuckles and quickly folded his arms.

"Did you get your invitation?" she asked brightly.

"You knew about this too?"

Grace nodded excitedly. "Adrian told me she was going in to find out the sex of the baby last week! I didn't go with her, mind you, but I'm so excited! I can't wait to know what the baby's going to be, then I can finally pick out a baby gift!" She clapped her hands together like a child. "Did you like the invitations?" she asked, face alight. "I helped Adrian pick them out! They're cute, aren't they? Little pink and blue giraffe babies!"

"It doesn't seem like Adrian," he snorted. "Throwing a party like this."

"Oh, it wasn't her idea. Mine either. It was George's."

"George? As in her mother's married boyfriend, George?"

"Yep," Grace replied with a little twitch of her nose. "He's actually a rather nice man, if you don't think about the adultery. I can see why my mom was attracted to him. He got an interesting personality."

"I thought it was just family?"

"Oh, it is," Grace nodded. "Just anyone related – or possibly related – to the baby. George won't be there, I won't be there…although I wish I could. Maybe Ben could video tape the moment the cake gets cut? He's good with a video recorder, Ben. We have the same English teacher, but different periods. She used a video project he did for the class as an exemplar in our class the other day, it was _really_ good! I was thinking maybe-"

"I have to go."

Grace's face melted. "Oh."

"I have homework, a test," he lied.

"What subject?" she asked, eyes sparkling. "Maybe we could study together? I miss hanging out with you, Ricky. I know I've been hanging out with Adrian a lot, but you're my friend too and I know you've been going through just as much-"

"I have people to talk to." At her hurt look, he felt a twang of guilt and added, "Not that you're not a good person to talk to, but…it's complicated."

Grace bowed her head. "I understand. If you change your mind, though-"

"Thanks."

Grace smoothed her cheerleading skirt. "Well…I guess I'll see you later, then."

Ricky watched her disappear down the hall and started to turn away, then curled his fist. "Grace! Grace, wait!" He charged back down the hall after her and nearly ran her over as she came jogging back around the corner. "Who picking you up?" he asked suspiciously.

Grace blinked innocently. "I was going to take the bus."

Ricky sighed. After what had happened with Adrian, there was no way he was going to allow that. "No, I'll take you home."

"You don't have to-"

"_I'm taking you home."_

Grace's face brightened and she tossed her arms around his neck. "Thanks, Ricky! You're a good guy."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The following day, Adrian found herself alone in the back of the middle school library. There were two main middle schools in the area and this was not the one that she attended with Antonio three years ago. It did, however, vaguely remind her of her old school, in that she had spent hours upon hours at the school library the weekend after she had learned of Antonio's cancer, researching the options. In a sense, she was glad it wasn't her old middle school, because she didn't know if she could take seeing that place again.

Adrian looked across the room. At the far table there was one other tutor, who was there for science and math. Her name was Linda and she was a junior from the Grant's local rival high school and she was currently busy tutoring a couple of seventh grade boys who had come in an hour ago. That was how long Adrian had been sitting there: an hour. She only had one more hour to go and in some ways, it was actually quite agonizing. The only positive that she could see out of the situation was that she had just earned ten dollars for doing absolutely nothing.

With a dejected sigh, the ex-majorette reached into her backpack and drew out her English book. "Might as well get my own homework done if there's nothing else to do." So for twenty minutes, she buried her face into her AP English text until she heard the sound of someone approaching and looked up, expecting to see the librarian passing by again. But to her surprise, it was the middle school principal, Principal Miller, who she'd met when she arrived, and a young brunette haired girl in a plaid mini skirt and an oversized sweatshirt in the middle school colors, with their school mascot plastered onto the front. Adrian snapped her book closed and rose to her feet like a soldier at attention.

"Ms. Lee," Principal Miller smiled. "I'd like to introduce you to a very _special_ student of mine, Ashley Juergens."

Adrian felt her tongue become fat inside her mouth. She chose to nod instead of speak.

"Ashley, this is our newest English and Spanish tutor, Adrian Lee. She's here from Grant High, where your sister goes."

Ashley scowled. "So I've heard."

Adrian bit down on the sides of her tongue and forced a smile. "It's nice to meet you."

When Ashley remained silent, Principle Miller motioned to the table and dropped a single white sheet of paper onto it. "Ashley is working on an English research paper and presentation," she explained. "She needs it in order to pass her eighth grade English this year, so if you could work on it with her and advise me on your progress-"

"Absolutely!" Adrian agreed, forcing another smile. She picked up the paper and pretended to look it over so she could avoid eye contact both the principal and Ashley.

"Wonderful. I'll be looking forward to the updates." She nodded towards Ashley. "We'll talk later, Miss Juergens."

Adrian waited until the principal had left and then she sank back into her seat, only looking at Ashley once the middle schooler had sat down as well.

"I know how write," Ashley announced monotonously, as she yanked the hideous school sweatshirt over her head and shoved it to the end of the table.

"_Really?"_ Adrian asked, realizing afterwards how snide she sounded. "Then why are you here for tutoring?" She looked the girl up and down, noting the skull and crossbones t-shirt she was wearing. "And for that matter, why were you escorted here by the principal of all people?"

"Funny," Ashley scoffed. "I was just thinking about asking you personal questions too, like why my father is living at your house."

Adrian shut her mouth and looked down at the English assignment. "You'd have to ask him."

There was silence at first, followed by: "I'm failing English."

Adrian lifted her head. "I thought you said you knew how to do English?"

"I do," Ashley replied, glaring over the monotone of her voice. "But some people can't appreciate a persuasive essay on why persuasive essays are a waste of time. Apparently 'thinking outside the box' is only acceptable as long as you're still thinking within the box of the teacher."

Adrian smirked. "Let me guess, you already have several strikes against you, don't you?"

"I'm on 'The List' if that counts."

"'The List'?"

"The List that details which kids need watching out for."

"And what did you do to deserve that honor?"

Ashley stood up, revealing her bare mid-drift. "I dared to be comfortable with my body."

Adrian slid the assignment across the table to the younger girl. "Well there you go!"

"Excuse me?"

"'Research a prominent social issue and write a six to eight page persuasive essay on the topic, accompanied by a visual aid presentation.' And that's your topic: the feminine beauty ideal."

Ashley narrowed her eyes and lowered herself back into her seat. "Did you not hear what I got a failing grade for last time?"

"Loud and clear, but is the beauty ideal not a social issue? Is it not a feminist issue? There's a _wealth_ of material on it. In fact, it might be a little overwhelming. But legitimate? _Absolutely._"

Ashley strummed her fingers across the page and slowly began to nod. "I could work with this."

Adrian nodded. "The only question is: where do you want to start?"

Ashley looked over her shoulder towards the library computers and back at Adrian. "Thanks," she said abruptly. Then added confidently, "But I still don't like you."

Adrian shrugged. "I'm not here for you to like. I'm just here to help you pass English."

"Well, good. As long as that's understood."

Adrian smiled. "Then I'm sure we'll get along _beautifully_."


	18. Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

**A/N: **I didn't forget about this story, I've just had too much going on. October was my Midterm Month. I literally had four midterms, one each week. It was crazy! And then I've also been sick. It's just nearing the end of the semester, so it's hard.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Breaking Up Is Hard To Do**

"I like where you're going with this," Adrian nodded as she reviewed a page from Ashley's essay. "Good grammar, good writing mechanics-"

"But?"

Adrian clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and handed the page back to the eighth grader. "Your argument's a little…" She held up her hand and rocked it slowly, like a boat on choppy waters.

Ashley folded her arms and leaned back in her seat. "How?"

"You mention the Third Wave quite a bit, but it's a pretty hotly contested subject. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but…they really have an emphasis on 'Grrrrrl Power!' which is sometimes seen as extremely problematic because of its reemphasis on 'femininity,' which is a subjective topic in and of itself."

"The point I want to make is that women have a right to be okay with their bodies and they shouldn't have to cover them up; they should be able to embrace themselves, no matter what they look like."

"Which is a fantastic thesis, but it does bring up a whole host of other issues that you haven't covered."

"Such as?"

Adrian tapped the page with the tip of her nail. "Such as: where does the male gaze begin and how does that factor into what women actually want and what they _think_ they want? For example: do girls and women wear mini skirts because they actually _like_ wearing mini skirts and are proud of their figures or are they doing so because they think others – typically _men_ – think they look good in them, even though mini skirts are hard to walk in, sit in, and near impossible to bend over in without flashing someone? Or, why are you proud to show off your stomach in the first place? You say that you're proud of your body, sure, but _why _are you proud of it? Because you have a nice, flat, white skinned stomach and tiny waist? Perhaps because you're closer to the feminine beauty ideal than, say, a woman thirty pounds heavier than you would be?" Adrian held up her hand. "I'm not trying to be mean, but…"

"I hadn't thought about it like that before." Ashley scrubbed her chin. "But I do have one question: what's the male gaze? How would you define that?"

Adrian licked her lips as she snapped up her pencil and spun Ashley's essay page around, scribbling something at the bottom. "You should check out Laura Mulvey's article on the male gaze. It's called 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,' it might help, especially with the class presentation. Or at least round out your thoughts if nothing else."

"Alright…" Ashley absently licked the tip of her pencil and inclined her head to scribble the note onto the paper.

At the front of the library, one of the double doors swung open, accompanied by a chilly burst of air. "Ashley! I've been trying to call you for the last five minutes, Mom and I-"

Adrian inclined her head, but it was too late: the sudden dead end of Amy's voice told Adrian that she had been spotted. She closed her eyes and flared her nostrils, taking in an extra long, slow breath as she heard Amy's shoes tromp up to the table. When she looked up, she saw the elder Juergens standing protectively beside her sister.

"What the hell are_ you _doing here?" Amy snarled, practically biting the air like a Rottweiler on a chain. Then, as an afterthought, she rounded on her sister. "Ashley! What the hell is going on?"

Adrian stood up, revealing her full stomach in all its glory. "If you're after someone to blame, you can take it up with your old principal, I hear she's a fan."

Amy's slender fingers flexed and the bones could be heard crackling in the thick silence. "Ashley, Mom's waiting for you in the car."

Ashley shifted her eyes to the farthest corner of her face, shooting a sympathetic look at the Latina. "It_ is_ Principal Miller's fault," she finally spoke up.

"You're on _her _side now?"

"I'm not on anyone's side." Ashley snapped up her notes and stuffed them into her backpack. "I'm just stating the facts. Neither one of us asked for her to tutor me, it was all Principal Miller's idea. Probably on purpose, too." She tossed the backpack over one shoulder and cast a glare on her sister. "And anyway, I already told you if I don't go to tutoring, then I'm going to fail English. Do you want me failing English on top of everything else going on? How much do you think _that_ would stress Mom out?"

Amy grit her teeth. "I'll meet you at the car."

"Amy-"

"I'll _meet you_. At. The. Car."

Adrian felt the tide turn in her stomach as she watched Ashley stomp out of the library. The last thing she needed was a confrontation with Amy. "Look-"

"_Shut up." _

Adrian closed her mouth, surprised by the short fused words. She'd never pegged Amy for that type of girl. In that instant, watching the wrestling match of emotions struggle for dominance as they rolled across her face, Adrian felt pity for the girl. Again. And possibly empathy, too.

"I _do_ want to take it up with someone, but it sure as hell isn't Principal Miller." The Freshman extended her finger to the Latina. "You're the only one here that deserves blame! You _and_ your mother. If you hadn't gone and seduced Ben-"

"Ben's a big boy!" Adrian hurled back, but even as she said the words, she still knew no matter what Ben had said or done, she would have gotten him to have sex with her at some point. As the guilt found its way into her throat, she decided to change tactics. "And for that matter, so is your father! For your information, _he's_ the one that pursued my mother! And you know _why?_" Despite the crushing look in Amy's eyes, she barreled on: "Because _your_ mother couldn't be bothered to give the time of day to her own goddamn husband!"

At that point, the school librarian approached. "Girls, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is not the place-"

"Don't worry, I'm done here!" Amy cut in. She spun on her heel and blew out of the library like a tornado.

Adrian collapsed back onto the hard chair, allowing her hands to pile protectively onto her stomach. Having Ben on the receiving end of Anne's rage when she had confronted George with the divorce papers, she should have expected something like this, but still, she had never expected to see Amy blow her fuse like that.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I don't want her with Ben."

Dr. Fields folded his arms across his chest. "Is that because you want Adrian to be with you?"

Ricky hugged the pillow to his chest. "She just shouldn't be with him," he replied, evading the question. "I don't like her talking to him."

"Why?"

"Ben's – Ben's just a kid."

"And you're not? You're only a year older."

"Ben was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Me? I've grown up; learned to take care of myself. Adrian, too. We may only be sixteen, but we're still _years_ older than him."

"Do you have feelings for Adrian?"

Ricky looked down at his knuckles, still faintly bruised from the assault on his father. He closed his eyes, mentally going back to that day. "He pulled her out of the trunk and carried her back to the car."

"And why tell me that?" Dr. Fields probed.

"Because," Ricky whispered hoarsely. "That should've been me."

"Because it was your father who put her there?"

"No."

"No?" 

"Because I want her to see me the way she saw him…as the kind of guy she can depend on." Ricky abandon the pillow and pulled his feet up onto the couch. "Sometimes I can't sleep at night," he admitted quietly. "I just lie awake thinking…thinking that maybe I want that baby to be mine."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What is _this_?"

Adrian skirted into the living room, chomping on a turkey sandwich. She saw her mother staring at a medium sized delivery box with a picture of a fair skinned woman peering over the edge of a bassinet at a cuddly baby with blue eyes. "Advertising aimed at the mythical norm?"

"Excuse me?"

Adrian swallowed a mouthful of her sandwich and smirked. "I've been spending too much time on this tutoring job," she explained. "Just never mind." She crossed into the kitchen and set her plate down in exchange for a receipt which she handed to her mother. "From 'D.A.D Enriquez,'" she read aloud. "It's a bassinet. Assembly required, but still. A bassinet! Can you believe he just sent me a bassinet?"

Cindy crumpled the end of the receipt in her hand. _"Dad?"_ she hissed.

Adrian snorted. "Yeah, I guess someone fucked up and put an extra '.D' at the end of 'D.A.' Kind of ironic, considering my real dad's a deadbeat." She shook her head. "But anyway," she motioned excitedly towards the box. "I can't wait to set it up and see how it looks! It must've been pricey. And here I was believing that random acts of kindness don't actually exist."

"Random," Cindy repeated as she crumpled the receipt and forced a smile. "Yeah, how _nice_ of_ D.A. _Enriquez," she replied through pinched lips. Raising her manicured index finger, she pointed to the door. "I'll be right back," she said suddenly. "I think I forgot phone in the car."

Adrian narrowed her eyes as her mother's form retreated out the door. "Mhmmm," she murmured. She and her mother had kept enough secrets from each other over the years that she knew something was up, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Possibly the idea of getting a handout from some hot shot district attorney; her mother had always despised pity gifts. She hated pity herself, but strangely, D.A. Enriquez's gift didn't seem like pity because he had seemed to genuinely care about her well being. Looking to the box again, she grinned and patted her protrusive stomach.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ricky! Hey, man!"

Ricky spun around, broom in hand, to see Jack jogging towards him. He felt the muscles in his shoulders tense up. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Jack grinned, holding up a pink and white Baskin Robbins bag. "I'm volunteering here!"

"At a Big Brother program?" Ricky asked skeptically.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, Coach says it looks good on the college res. They assigned me to this one kid, Duncan. Sweet kid, a bit mischievous though." He held the bag up to the side of his face and leaned in. "_Hot_ older sister too!"

Ricky felt his stomach curdle. "Good for you," he said sarcastically.

"What are you doing here?" Jack asked curiously. His eyes fell to the broom in the other boy's hands.

Ricky grit his teeth. "I – am _volunteering_ too."

Jack lifted his eyebrows skeptically. "Really? I, uh, never pegged you for the type…what's with the broom?"

"I'm not volunteering with the kids," Ricky explained as he skillfully avoided eye contact. "Just with cleaning and chores, lunches…I'm easing the burden on the staff."You +1'd this publicly. Undo

"For you résumé too?"

"Yeah, something like that," he said out loud. Though silently he thought: _Otherwise I won't have a résumé because instead I'd be in jail for beating my rapist father senseless._

Jack shrugged at the drummer's vagueness. "Well, cool running into you. Good luck…I guess. I gotta go! See ya 'round!"

Ricky exhaled upon the jock's departure. There was no way he needed the whole school to know about his community service. On one hand, he was grateful to D.A. Enriquez, because he had gotten off easy. On the other, he hated himself, because the hours that he was spending sweeping floors after school for free to ensure he didn't suffer a worse fate on his permanent record could be better spent hunting for and making money.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben had to do a double take when he saw his ex-girlfriend's little sister couched down on his front porch step when he got home from work. "Ashley?" he questioned, jogging up to her. The wind had picked up into a good storm in the last half hour and her hair was billowing about her face, but she was like a boulder, shouldering Mother Nature stone faced. "How long have you been waiting here?" he asked, offering a hand to help her up.

Ashley ignored his hand and pushed herself up by herself. "Couple hours."

Ben punched his key into the door and shoved it open. "Come in, come in!" he hollered over the sound of the wind.

Ashley shoved her fists into her pockets and sauntered inside, glancing about as she did so. "Nice place," she said monotonously.

"What are you doing here?" Ben leaned his body weight against the door to close it. "How did you get here?" He was sure Ashley had never been to his house before, not formally anyway, though she had been with Anne and Amy on occasion when Amy had been dropped off.

"I took the bus," Ashley explained as she flashed him her bus card. "I need to talk to you."

Ben frowned. "Yeah, sure," he said awkwardly. "Uhm," he motioned her towards the kitchen, "about what?" When she didn't say anything right away, he began to fidget. He'd never exchanged more than a few sentences with Ashley, as she always excused herself from his and Amy's presence.

"About Amy."

Ben gulped as they made their way into the kitchen, where he dropped his backpack on the table. "Is she okay?"

"What do you think?"

"She won't talk to me. I see her at school, but she avoids me."

"Well you need to try harder."

"Excuse me?"

"She – she needs you."

Ben was sure if he squinted, he might be able to see the chips in Ashley's tough exterior. "Didn't you hear what I just said? _She_ won't to me. It's not my choice, Ashley._ She's_ the one who broke up with me."

"Haven't you ever done something stupid because you're hurting?" At his silence she continued, "It doesn't mean that the choices you made are the ones you really want."

"True," Ben agreed, "but that still doesn't mean I can make her do something she won't." He pulled out a chair at the table and sat down, shoulders slumped. "Besides, I…I've been getting more involved with Adrian lately. Even if Amy did want to be friends again – or something else – I think that would only continue to hurt her. And I don't want that. I care about her a lot, Ashley. But I can't ignore the fact that I might be a father for her."

Ashley moved to the table, wordlessly removed a rectangular object from her pocket, and dropped it in front of Ben.

"What's this?"

Ashley shrugged. "Voice recorder, what does it look like?"

"Yeah, I _see_ that, but what's the point of it? Why are you giving this to me?"

"Listen to it," the middle schooler replied simply. "Don't stop, listen the whole way through." She turned and, without looking back, added quietly, "And _then_ tell me you can't try harder."

Ben stared at the recorder, almost afraid to find out what secrets it held. When he looked up, Ashley was gone. He bounced up and raced to the front door, where he found her unlocking it. "Do you need a ride back home?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

Ben hesitated. "My driver could-"

"I've got it!" Ashley insisted. "Just focus on my sister."

Ben shivered as Ashley slammed the door against the brutal wind. He hugged his arms all the way back to the kitchen, where he sat down in front of the voice recorder. His eyes washed over the buttons for an eternity and then he lifted a single bony finger to the play arrow and pressed it.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

As soon as George came through the door, Adrian knew something was up. He never came home from the furniture store so early and since he wasn't heading towards her mother's room, she assumed it must have to do with her. To avoid him, she ducked her head into the fridge and pretended to be looking for something.

"Can I talk to you?"

Adrian leaned her forehead against the edge of the fridge door and sighed. "Uh, sure," she muttered. "I made some raviolis if you want some," she added, pulling out a pot in the hopes of distracting him.

"No thanks." George slid into a chair on the opposite side of the counter and grabbed a pear from the fruit bowl. "Ashley dropped by the store today…with her new _friend_."

"Oh?" Adrian replied brightly. "You mean Thomas? Sweet kid, huh? Well, so I've _heard_."

"You know about Thomas?"

"Yeah, I've been-"

"Tutoring Ashley after school, yeah. I know. She told me."

Adrian pushed her hair over her shoulder and moved to the dinner table, so she was sitting across from George, as the chairs opposite the counter were too much of a struggle to climb onto with her full belly. "And?"

"She also told me what happened today."

"Look, I don't know what they told you, but I didn't do anything wrong! All I did was-"

"I know. And for the record, it was just Ashley. She said she wanted to explain things before Amy did. I understand. This divorce, many actions…it hasn't been easy on anyone, especially Amy and Ashley. I understand why Amy acted out, but please don't hold it against her, it's not her fault, it's mine. And above all, I just wanted to thank you."

Adrian blinked. "For what?"

"For helping Ashley. She showed me her essay so far. It's really good! I'm really proud of her. And you too. So thank you. And I hope you're able to continue tutoring her, it's been beneficial to both of you. Maybe even more than you know."

Adrian frowned, unsure of what he meant by that. But the look on his face told her that he was sincere in whatever it was. Finally she smiled. "You're welcome."

George smiled as well. "So how are you doing? With the pregnancy and Ricky and Ben I mean." He pulled his cell phone out of his coat pocket. "Your mother left me a voicemail about the package you got today," he chuckled.

"Let me guess: a twenty minute rant?"

"More like ten, my voicemail cuts off after that."

Adrian smirked. "She hates anything she thinks is a handout," she explained. "And anyway, with Ben and Ricky it's…_going_. I guess."

"Relationships are never easy, are they?"

"Sometimes they are," she said wistfully. "But…but that's not my situation."

"Mine either." George slid off the chair and tossed the pear core into the trash. "So, what d'ya say? Do you need any help assembling that bassinet?"

"You'd do that?"

"Sure, why not?"

"How about incurring my mother's wrath?"

George winked. "I think I can handle it." He motioned his hand. "C'mon, you've been helping out a lot lately, now it's time to return the favor."

Adrian stroked her tummy as she followed George over to the bassinet box. For a split second, her mind flashed to an idyllic future, where her mother was still with George and he was a proper father and grandfather figure. For a second, it was nice, until she remembered Ashley, and where would that future leave her?


	19. Money For Nothing, Chicks For A Fee

**A/N: **As a way of apologizing for the update dry spell, I'm giving you an extra chapter.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Money For Nothing, Chicks For A Fee**

"Um, am I wrong, or did I just see you over there talking to Jack?" Adrian asked as Grace walked up to her locker.

"He wanted me to buy his candy bar," Grace sighed.

"And is that a euphemism for something?"

Grace rolled her eyes and produced an actual bar of chocolate from her backpack. "No, I'm being quite literal, thank you."

"Which majorette is he 'dating' in order to make you jealous to be selling those?"

Grace stared, befuddled. "What?"

Adrian snatched the candy out of Grace's hand and inspected it. "Before I had to quit the team, we were selling these in order to raise money to go to Washington D.C. next year."

Grace shook her head. "No, no. Jack's selling these to help out a boy he's mentoring for Big Brothers, Big Sisters."

"And you _bought_ that?" Adrian chuckled.

"It was only five dollars!"

"No, I didn't mean the candy, I meant – wait, _what?_ Five dollars? We only sold ours for two-fifty!"

"But this is for Disadvantaged Youth!" Grace protested. "It's a good cause, Adrian!"

"If that's the scam you wanna fall for, then fine," Adrian replied. "But I don't have five dollars. Or two-fifty. _Yet._"

"Yet?" Grace probed, intrigued by the allure in the elder girl's voice.

Adrian grinned. "Yet!" she repeated gleefully. "But I might, soon. I got a called for an interview on one of the applications I submitted last week!"

"Adrian, that's great!" The cheerleader squealed, jumping up and down like a bouncy ball. "Oh! I'm so happy for you!"

"Don't get too excited," the Latina warned. "Once he sees this," she patted her bulging belly, "the job may be out the window."

"They can't fire you for being pregnant," Grace frowned.

"Sure they can, they just have to call it something else. And trust me, there are plenty of ways to do it."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben sat alone in the back seat of the Boykewich family limo, backpack on the opposite seat and Ashley's voice recorder in his lap, with two waxy white wires coming off of the side, connecting a pair of earphones to his ears. He'd put off his homework the night before to start the recordings and had eventually stayed up nearly all night long listening until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. There were literally hours of footage.

The tape began with crying. _Hours_ of crying. It was Amy, of course. Who else could it be? He knew the sound of her choked sobs and it killed him inside. Sometimes there were be strange changes in the sound of the sobs or the background, which made Ben suspect that many different fits of sobbing had been recorded at different times, on the tails of one another. At one point, he had even begun to wonder if maybe that was the only thing on the tape.

Then he heard the first notes of music. No lyrics, just music, played on – of course – the French Horn. The first song had been almost laughably cliché, if he hadn't just listened to the previous footage. It was epic and familiar: "My Heart Will Go On," classic romantic heartbreak, _Titanic_. He'd never heard something played with so much passion before, least of all on a French Horn.

The second song was even worse, despite being a happy song. It was the French Horn version of Cole Porter's "I Love You," the same song they had shared their first dance to that night at the church gym after Adrian had cornered him at the refreshments table. He'd promptly forgotten all about Adrian when Amy had been wound up in his gangly arms, slow dancing to: "'I love you,' that's the song of songs…and it all belongs, to you and me."

After that, there had been hours worth of songs that he didn't recognize, though a handful vaguely tickled his recognition. He wanted to say maybe Beethoven or Strauss or Mozart, but he wasn't completely sure. But he listened to them anyway, because they were Amy, and they were beautiful kind of tragic.

The one he was listening to now was from Disney. He hadn't recognized it immediately, but it had plagued him until he'd realized it was from _Hercules_. Now, as he listened to it again, he could see the starry sky that Hercules was starring into as he sang, "I Can Go the Distance." Ben remembered watching it when he was younger and being able to relate.

"_Ben!"_

The shout, combined with the forceful thumping on the glass that separated the driver from the passengers, finally stolen Ben's attention away over the sound of the French Horn. He tore out his earphones to find his driver staring at him.

"What're you listening to on there anyway, Ben? I've been trying to get your attention for three minutes!"

Ben felt his face heat up. "Sorry, I…it's just something a – a friend gave me."

"Must be really good."

"Good at something," Ben sighed. He grabbed his backpack by the right strap and pushed open the limo door. "Thanks for the ride."

"Always."

He tossed his backpack over his arm as he headed for the Grant High double doors. If there was ever something he could do for a friend, he tried his best to do it. That had always been his philosophy and wasn't Amy his friend? That's what she had said she wanted to be, after she found out about Adrian and the baby. Even if she wasn't talking to him, that didn't mean he didn't continue caring about her.

On the other side of the coin, there was Adrian. He was something to Adrian too. Maybe not a friend, exactly. Not a lover nor an ex either, in the conventional way. But still something. And he knew he cared about her as well, though not in the same way. Because of that, Ashley's confrontation had kept him rattled all night.

"You look bummed," Alice said as Ben approached his locker.

"My life was so much easier when I was single."

"You_ are_ single," Henry pointed out.

"Yeah, but not really. Not with an ex-girlfriend who I still care about and a maybe baby on the way."

"Wait, I'm confused," Henry frowned. "You're moping about Amy again? I thought you were all excited about Adrian?"

Ben placed his palm against his forehead. "I've gotten used to the idea that Adrian's baby might be mine," he explained curtly. "But that doesn't mean-"

"Something happened," Alice interrupted with a squinted glare. "What happened?"

Ben groaned. "Ashley came to see me last night."

"Oh, this can't be good," Henry groaned.

"Why?" Alice probed, ignoring her boyfriend.

"To tell me to get back together with Amy." Ben held up his finger, silencing Alice's response. "And I know, it's irrational and not really my place, but…"

"But what?"

"I – I just need to see her now."

"Ben-"

"I know I've got too much on my plate as it is," he cut in, "but Amy's still…_Amy_. She's still my first girlfriend and she's still someone I care about and she's going through a really bad patch right now."

"So are you!"

"Yeah, but my dad didn't choose to leave me." Ben shut his locker and looked in the direction of the band room. "I'll see you guys later, okay?" Without waiting around for either of them to answer, he took off towards the band room. It was empty save for a lone clarinet player putting away her instrument. Looking at the cubbies, he knew that Amy hadn't been by with her French Horn yet, so he waited around for another five minutes after the clarinet player left and was almost about to leave himself when Amy hobbled in, hair mussed and carrying dark bags under her eyes.

"B-Ben?" she stuttered, stalling in the doorway upon seeing him.

"Hey," he smiled, recalling all those mornings at the beginning of the year when he'd met her at the band room.

"H-hi," she sputtered, lugging her French Horn case over to the cubbies.

"Let me help," Ben said, not giving her a choice. He took the French Horn case and lifted it into the cubby. When he turned back to her, he noticed confusion speckled across her face. "What? It's not like I haven't done this before."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, "you just usually struggle when you're doing it."

Ben chuckled, even though she didn't. Then his mind flashed back to Adrian's abduction, when he'd struggled to carry her out of the trunk and back to D.A. Enriquez's car. In comparison, a French Horn case seemed like nothing. "Guess I've grown a little."

"Yeah."

"How are you?"

Amy shook her head and looked to her sneakers. "F – fine."

"You're lying. You always stutter when you lie." Ben moved closer to her. "Come on, Amy. Talk to me, please?"

"I – I can't."

Ben let his hand inch closer to hers and grasped it loosely. "_Yes_ you can. I still care about you and I hate to see you in so much pain. You need someone to talk to. Just – just let me be your friend."

"You're right," she agreed. "I do need someone to talk to. Someone _impartial_. So it can't be you. I'm sorry, Ben. I still care about you too, but you're too tied up in this. If it were anyone but Adrian…but, it's not." She tugged her hand out of his.

Ben hedged her off as she tried to duck for the door. "Amy-"

"I've said all I want to say, Ben. Just leave me alone, okay?" Looking to the right to avoid his eyes she said, "Let me go."

Ben felt his heart drop to his feet. He thought she looked so shrunken and small and in that second, all he wanted to do was hug her and promise her the world. Instead, he stepped aside and watched her leave without looking back. He stood there for a while, as a few other kids trickled in and out, then he turned and walked deeper into the band room. He'd never been that far in before, but in the back, it contained a full classroom, complete with a whiteboard off to the side. Ben moved to the whiteboard and moved his hand along the tray until he found a red marker and carried it back to the cubby wall. Reaching his arm up to Amy's French Horn case he began to write against the metal rim in red ink. _The song of songs: it belongs to you and me._

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

After school, Adrian's apple red convertible pulled up in front of a small building with a smooth black sign above the door, accented with swirling silver calligraphy. She looked to her blonde friend who sat in the passenger seat. "This is it!"

Grace's face dropped. "You're working at a place called Chic Chop?"

Adrian guffawed. "No, not chop, it's pronounced _shop_, like _chic_! But they're both spelt with the 'ch,' get it?"

Grace illustrated one of the best fake smiles Adrian had ever seen. "Clever."

"_Whatever,"_ the Latina sighed. "Just wait for me, okay? You want to browse while I'm doing the interview?"

Grace shrugged. "Sure!"

"Great." Adrian parked the convertible and glanced at the gas gage before getting out. It was nearly on empty. She'd noticed it that morning, but had resisted the urge to ask her mother for cash, as the latter was still in a mood because she had found the bassinet that George helped her to assemble – though he had done most of the work – in her room. Her mother's anger over the bassinet seemed just _a tad_ extreme, so she'd decided not to push buttons by asking for money. "God, I need this job," she whispered under her breath.

Inside the store the floors were wood and lined – seamlessly no less – with straight rows of silver racks, each containing exactly the same amount of hangers holding up shiny and sparkly outfits, without a wrinkle or misplacement to be seen. The air conditioning was also on, even though it was the end of February. Adrian was thankful for the long sleeved baby doll she was wearing: firstly, because it was warm, secondly, because it hid the goose bumps that had she could feel rising on her arms.

"It looks…nice." Grace squirmed beside Adrian, clearly out of her realm of comfort.

"I hope it won't take too long." The Latina strode up to the counter and pressed her palms to the edge, tapping it with her manicured nails. Several minutes passed before a slender five foot eleven girl with ink black hair and spiked silver heels walked out from the back room. She paused in the doorway, looking Adrian up and down – at least as far as the counter would allow, which basically stopped beneath her breasts – and only then walked up to her. "How can I help you?" she asked, raising a painted on eyebrow.

Adrian bit her tongue and forced a smile. "I have a job interview scheduled for three, with Mr. Lentz."

A small puff of air hit Adrian's forehead as the girl did something halfway between a snort and a scoff. She pointed a silver manicured nail towards a door that read _Employees Only_. "He's expecting you."

"_Muchas gracias,"_ Adrian replied with an air of sarcasm as she headed for the door. From her peripheral vision, she could see the girl staring gawky eyed at her stomach as she stepped away from the counter. Trying to ignore the girl's stalking eyes, she opened the employee door and stepped into a small hallway. She looked both ways, then realized another door to her right had the name _Francis Lentz_ on the silver label. Adrian cautiously raised her fist to the door and gently rapped it.

"Come in!"

Swallowing her insecurities, Adrian pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was even colder in the office than it was in the main store. The office was bright, though windowless, the light being courtesy of the slim silver lamps on either side of the oak desk at the back of the room, which a man with a tight bald head sat behind. Adrian took him in as she approached: young, expensive suit like the ones sold in the front if not better, and when he stood up, _tall_.

"Ms. Lee," Mr. Lentz smiled, extending his hand.

"Mr. Lentz," Adrian returned, extending her hand simultaneously.

"You're even more lovely than the head shot on your résumé led me to believe."

Adrian felt her cheeks warm as she sat down. Her mind whirred as he began to talk, but she wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. Her mind was still on the fact that he had noted her beauty and_ not_ her pregnancy.

"I noticed your résumé doesn't list any work experience."

Adrian squirmed against the back of her chair. "This would be my first job, officially. But I'm competent," she added quickly. "As you can see, I have a perfect GPA, I take multiple advanced placement courses, and I've been involved in extracurricular activities for years."

Mr. Lentz nodded, his eyes moving quickly back and forth in their sockets as he folded his hands in front of himself. "May I ask you something then?"

"Of course," Adrian smiled. "That's what we're here for, isn't it?"

Mr. Lentz nodded smoothly. "If you were money, what would you be?"

Adrian felt her mind spinning out like it had just hit black ice. _What the hell type of question is that?_ The tips of her manicure burrowed into the flesh of her palms as she feigned a smile, flipping through a mental rolodex of world currencies. _"Easy,"_ she blurted out, "a golden family heirloom." She mentally noted the rising of the man's brows. "Even as the price of the dollar or Euros or pesos fluctuate, gold is always extremely valuable, and as an heirloom, it's valuable both as physical collateral and emotionally priceless. It's also probably not the answer you were expecting, because like a family heirloom, I'm unconventional, though still extremely valuable."

"Impressive," Mr. Lentz smirked. "Very impressive." He tapped his fingers on his right hand to the palm of his left, like someone clapping at a pretentious play. "I've never had such a unique answer to that question."

Adrian pursed her lips. "So does that mean I passed?"

"Absolutely! I ask because I want to test those who want to work for me," he explained. "I want to see how fast they can think on their feet and to see their creativity before my eyes. You, my dear, have passed with gold star."

Adrian resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his cheesy pun. "Thank you."

"When can you start?"

"If I recall, you're open Saturdays but not Sundays. I have a family engagement scheduled for this evening, but I could start as early as tomorrow, if that would work with you."

"I look forward to seeing you."

Adrian offered her hand again. "Thank you. Both for the interview and the job. I really look forward to working with you."

"And I you, Miss Lee." Mr. Lentz kissed the back of Adrian's hand. "Until tomorrow."

Adrian took her hand back. "Yeah…until tomorrow." She left the office quickly and when she returned to the front of the store, she found Grace there alone, evidently the woman who had come out from the back room had gone back to it. She skipped over to her friend, threw her arm around Grace's shoulders, and directed her towards the door. As soon as they were a safe distance away she announced, "I got it!"

"You did?" Grace squeaked. She threw her arm around Adrian's neck and resumed classic Grace happy bouncing. "Congratulations!" With sparkling gray eyes she added, "And hopefully the customer service will improve dramatically with you on the staff."

Adrian's eyes darkened. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, that girl who came out when you went up to the counter? As soon as you left, all she did was pop a piece of gum in her mouth and disappear back to wherever she came from. Talk about rude!"

Adrian scowled as she climbed into the driver's side. "Maybe that's why he's hiring?" she suggested. "He needs a replacement."

"We should celebrate!" Grace cheered. "Wanna come over to my house? We-"

"Can't. I've got the reveal party today, remember? Ricky and Ben are coming over with their parents to find out the sex of the baby."

"Oh." Grace's face dulled a little. "Well, congratulations. And, uh, just text me when you get the chance, I can't wait to find out how to theme the baby shower!"

"The baby shower?"

"Well you didn't think I was going to let you go through your pregnancy without throwing a baby shower, did you?"

"It's not like I have any friends besides you to come to one anyway."

Grace waved her hand dismissively. "Shh. You just leave that to me!"

Adrian revved the engine. "Sure, Grace. I – _thanks_."

Grace was practically bubbling over in the passenger seat. "You're welcome!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I took off early to pick up the cake from the baker's, but don't worry, I'll be out of your hair in just a few minutes," George said as Adrian stepped through the front door.

Adrian zeroed in on the pink bakery box on the table and darted for it. "Oh my god!" she breathed. "I completely forgot about it!"

"I know," he laughed. "I called to make sure someone had picked it up and when they said it was still there, I figured it had slipped either yours or your mother's mind…especially in the mood she's in right now."

Adrian suddenly had an overwhelming urge to throw her arms around her mother's boyfriend. "Thank you!" Silently, she thought of the hormones and her blamed them for being overly gushy. Then she turned to the cake box and flipped open the lid. It was a cylindrical cake, with domed top, covered in cheerful yellow frosting with rotating pink and blue stripes up the sides, which culminated into an intricate design of pink and blue icing at the top so that the cake was designed to look like a yellow present wrapped in pink and blue ribbons. "It's perfect!"

George nodded. "Save me a piece."

Adrian tapped the table with one nail. "You – you could stay, if you wanted."

George shook his head. "This is only for family. And I'm not technically family. But thanks for the offer. Anyway, I'm gonna take Ashley and Amy out tonight. Hopefully we can work on our relationship."

Adrian nodded. "Good luck."

"You too. Congratulations, on whatever it is."

"Thanks, George."

Adrian lifted the cake out of the box and set it in the middle of the table, set the box in the kitchen, and then began to maneuver around, gathering plates and silverware first, then pulling out a large crystal bowl from under the cupboard, rinsing it out, and setting it on the table beside the cake. She filled it with a mixture of a can of thawed orange juice concentrate, a can of pineapple juice, a two liter bottle of lemon-lime soda, and stirred it with a matching crystal ladel. Finally, she topped it off with several scoops of orange sherbet which lobbed around in the punch mix like they were apples ready to be bobbed for.

By the time she'd tossed the empty cans and bottles into the recycle bin, put away the remaining sherbet, and set out the plastic cups, the doorbell finally rang. Adrian looked down at her clothes, the same ones she'd worn to the interview. She hadn't intended to wear them for the party, but now it was too late to change. She quickly smoothed her shirt and moved to the door. With a deep breath, she opened it to find Ben and Leo.

"Hey," Ben greeted cheerfully.

"I'm glad you could make it," Adrian said, peeling open the door so that they could step inside. "Uh, it's not really that festive," she said awkwardly, "but the refreshments are over there. I have some cheese and crackers in the fridge too that my mother made. I'll get those out-"

"I can get them," Ben offered, quickly heading for the kitchen.

"Thank you for having us over," Leo smiled as Adrian shut the door. "It means a lot to us – especially me, since you didn't have to invite the family – that you're doing this."

"Well I equally appreciate you coming and you're continued support. This hasn't been easy for anyone and there are a lot of people out there who would've never supported their child at all, let alone someone like me…in a situation like this."

Leo looked to the table, where Ben was setting out Cindy's tray of cheeses, crackers, and salami slices. "That reminds me, if you're interested, I have someone out in the parking lot right now – just a phone call away – ready to bring in some hot food from my butcher shop. Don't feel obligated, though. I didn't want to steal anyone's thunder, since I wasn't sure what you'd have here."

Adrian shook her head. "That would be great!"

Leo nodded and stepped aside, pulling out his cell phone.

"The cake looks great," Ben said as he stopped beside Adrian. "And the punch," he lifted a plastic cup, "it's amazing! What's the recipe?"

"It's just something my mom used to make for me when I was a kid. I can write it down for you if you really want it."

Ben nodded enthusiastically. "That would be perfect."

Adrian smiled in spite of herself. He was so cute in such a dorky, annoying, and yet somehow still very endearing sort of way. He was still exactly the same guy she had sought out at the majorette retreat, but paradoxically, he was also a brand new person. She had yet to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The sound of a key in the door caught all three pairs of eyes in the room and Adrian looked, expecting to see her mother come in. Instead, she was shocked to see Ricky, followed by Margaret and Shakur, and finally her mother.

"Sorry I'm late," Cindy announced, red faced. "There was road construction on the way home."

"We're all here now, that's what's important," Shakur said, his Indian accent oddly calming. He looked around the house. "You have a very lovely home, Ms. Lee."

"Thank you," Cindy nodded.

Adrian massaged the thumb in her throat with her fingertips. Somehow it was always more uncomfortable each time they had the triad of family meetings. "Well, since everyone's here…who wants cake?"

A murmur spread across the room which prompted Cindy to move into the kitchen and retrieve a knife from the drawer, which she handed to her daughter at the table. She laid a comforting hand on Adrian's shoulder as the latter turned to face the cake.

Adrian felt her hand quiver as she penetrated the carefully crafted icing with the knife. One slit down. Lifting the knife again, she pushed it down the other side, creating an ideal cake triangle. Then, hand still shaking, she slid the knife beneath the cake as Cindy offered her a plate and lifted the slice onto the paper plate. Adrian felt her heart stop for a moment and when she swiveled her head to Ben and Ricky, she was pretty sure theirs had too, for they were both utterly transfixed on the fluffy innards of the cake, sporting a rich dark pink.


	20. Maybe My Baby

**A/N: **lol Nope, I definitely plan on finishing this "season," so there will be three more chapters after this one. (And hint: the second to last chapter is called, "One Night At A Majorette Retreat.") Oh and this is the last chapter for this evening, folks! :P

_**Turning Tables**_

**Maybe My Baby**

"We take pictures of all our employees for our digital personnel records," Mr. Lentz explained as a camera flashed exploded in Adrian's eyes.

Something about the flash made her suddenly woozy. "I – sure, uh, do you mind if I take my lunch now? It's a little early but-"

"Of course," Mr. Lentz obliged. "You look a little peckish anyway."

"Thanks." The Latina retreated to the back room to find a protein bar and some fresh strawberries that her mother had bought just the day before. As she plopped a strawberry into her mouth, she noticed a light coming from her jacket pocket and took out her cell phone which was on, but turned onto the silent ring. "Hello, Grace," she said amusedly.

"Adrian, hey! I wasn't sure I was going to get ahold of you, I didn't think your lunch was until-"

"It's not, I'm early. Why are you calling?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing! Between tutoring and your new job, I haven't gotten to see much of you outside of school and I miss when we get to hang out. How is it?"

Adrian shrugged while nibbling on the protein bar. "It's alright. We get a lot of…_uptown_ people here."

"Snooties?"

Adrian snorted with laughter. "You're so vanilla."

"I love vanilla."

"Of course you do."

"How about your coworkers?"

Adrian shrugged. "I haven't really experienced them yet. I've mostly been doing on-on-one training with Mr. Lentz. He's – he's a bit eccentric."

"Like how?"

"Just – he likes things done in certain ways. I don't have a problem with that, but some things are just…odd, strange." She crumpled up her wrapped and shoved it into her jacket pocket. "I'll explain this weekend."

"Oh! Right, because you're at work now."

"Right," Adrian murmured, watching the door. "Anyway, how are you?"

"Great. Guess what!"

"What?"

"I'm submitting an application to the Young Healers Camp!"

"And what's that?"

"It's a prestigious program for high schoolers interested in a career in medicine! Only the best get in. I probably won't even get in, but still, doesn't it sound amazing? You go during the summer and do actual rounds with real doctors and get, basically, 'on the job' training. It would look incredible on my résumé!"

"I thought you were going to cheerleading camp this summer?"

"Oh, I was. Or am. I mean, that was my original plan, but then my dad found out about the Young Healers and it would be so much more beneficial for me to go there,_ if_ I could get in. If not, I'll still go to cheerleading camp."

"Wherever you go, don't forget to bring condoms."

"Adrian!"

"And get on the pill while you're at it. Obviously a condom by itself didn't work for me."

"_Adrian!"_

"I'm just being practical."

"I'm saving myself until _marriage_."

"That's what they all say." Adrian bit into another strawberry and savored the sound of Grace ranting on the other end of the line. "Are you done now?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I have to go. I need to pee about five times before my break's over. We'll talk more in depth on Sunday. _Adios!_"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"This is becoming a pattern," Ben said as he sat down next to Ashley on his front porch step.

"I heard you talked to Amy."

"That was two weeks ago."

"Apparently she told Mom, but they chose not to discuss it with me. I didn't know until I saw your love note on Amy's French Horn case and asked about it."

"She didn't wash it off?" Ben asked, surprised.

"No, it's just one more thing for her to agonize over."

"I just made things worse between us by talking to her. Now she doesn't even show up at the band room in the morning. I never see her at school. Face it, Ashley. She doesn't want to talk to me."

"You listened to the tape, right?"

"Of course I listened to it. But I can't get through to her." Ben rested his elbows on his knees. "I have a question that I'd like to ask you and I want an honest answer."

Ashley returned his serious tone with a vacant expression. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you're not trying to get me and Amy back together just because you can't get your mother and father back together? I don't know how to explain this other than a case of really bad projection."

"I'm not projecting!" she snapped. "I just care about my sister, that's all. You know, on top of everything that's already happened, we found out our grandmother has Alzheimer's too."

Ben laid his hand on Ashley's. "I'm sorry."

Ashley snatched her hand back quickly. "She's coming down to spend a few weeks with us next week. We're not sure how bad it is yet. I guess we'll find out though." She shrugged and fiddled with the fibers on her skirt. "I think my mom's thinking about going up there to spend the summer with her."

"To Palm Springs?" Ben asked, assuming she meant Mimsy, their maternal grandmother that Amy had mentioned on occasion.

"Yeah, Mimsy's house."

"That might be good. You know, get away from all the craziness down here for a while."

"More like running away," Ashley growled. "It just _happens_ to coincide with the expected arrival of Adrian's baby _and_ the finalization of the divorce. There's a six month separation period, if you didn't know."

"I kind of thought Amy might go to band camp again."

"_Yeah!"_ Ashley scoffed. "And possibly see Ricky? Or be the next Grant High kid to get knocked up? No. I don't think she wants that. And besides, I doubt Mom would let her go even if she did."

"Amy wouldn't get pregnant!" Ben said defiantly. "She's smarter than me. Way smarter. She said no to Ricky once already. And after the mistake she's seen me make, she'd never do what I did."

"Don't ever say 'never.'"

Ben cracked a smile. "That doesn't quite have the same ring."

"The ring of hypocrisy?" Ashley shrugged. "I'm fine with that."

Ben looked at his watch. "You should get home."

Ashley pushed herself off the step. "Don't stop trying Ben. Please? How many more things have to go wrong before you see how much she needs you?"

Ben sighed. "I'm sure I'll see you later, Ashley," he said, avoiding her questions. "Do you want a-"

"I'll take the bus."

Ben watched her disappear down the street and shrugged helplessly. Once out of sight, he jogged over to the mailbox and retrieved a handful of envelopes that he began to sift through as he walked inside. "Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad – _me?_" Curiously, he looked to the return address: _Bologna, Italy_. Stopping in the kitchen, he abandoned the handful on the table and tore open the single envelope in his name.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian stopped short of her apartment door, key in hand. "What are you doing here?"

Ricky was slouched beside the door, with a history book opened in his lap. "I've been waiting for you."

"I have responsibilities, Ricky. It's not like it used to be."

Ricky pushed the book aside and stood up. "You might be carrying my baby, doesn't that mean you have a responsibility to me too?"

"If that's the case, then I have an equal responsibility to Ben."

Ricky moved in on her, backing her up against the door. "Yeah," he said, motioning to the history book. "But you don't have history with Ben…but you do with me."

"Ricky-"

Ricky pressed his hand to Adrian's hip, half sliding it up her shirt and caressing her bare skin, effectively silencing her. "I've had a lot of time to think about things, Adrian. And I've come to realize that we have something other people don't."

Adrian grit her teeth. "Yeah," she agreed. "Really good sex!"

Ricky laughed. "That's the Adrian I know."

Adrian grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand off her hip. "Which is a point you've failed entirely to notice: I've changed. This pregnancy has changed me and you don't know _this_ Adrian."

He leaned close to her mouth, smoldering breath coming from his lips. "But I _want_ to. _This_ Ricky wants to know _this_ Adrian."

Adrian felt the breaths come quicker as he entwined his hands with hers, pushing her arms flat against the door. It felt just like old times and she could feel herself succumbing to those old feelings.

Ricky eased the apartment key out of her hand and lowered his mouth to Adrian's as he unlocked the door. They tumbled inside and he slid his arm around her back.

"My mom will be home soon," Adrian shuddered.

"Liar." He punctuated the word with another kiss.

"I don't want to do this."

"_Liar."_

"You don't want to have sex with a girl who might be carrying another man's child."

In response, Ricky slid his hand up the back of Adrian's shirt and unclasped her bra. "I've done it before. Does knowing make much of a difference now? It doesn't change what I'm feeling."

"It might hurt the baby."

"I can be gentle. You already know that. And before you try it, it's plenty healthy for pregnant women to have sex. I've looked into it." Ricky tugged up her shirt, pulling it over her head and arms. Her black bra was still in place, though awkwardly loose.

As a last ditch effort to resist him she asked, "What if we do this and it's not your baby?"

"A baby doesn't equal a couple, Adrian. Need proof? Look at the people who brought me into the world. Do you think Bob belongs with anyone? Besides death."

"So what are you saying?" Adrian demanded, as Ricky's hands circled her belly. "Are you trying to tell me you love me?"

Ricky stopped his hand over Adrian's naval. "I'm saying I don't care if the baby is mine. I go back to you and I don't know why. Maybe it's love, maybe it's something else. But I am saying that I want to explore that and I've never wanted anything like this before."

Adrian circled her arms around Ricky's neck and kissed him with the pent of energy of an exploding dynamite. She felt his hands wrap around her back and down her backside and reflexively wrapped her legs around his waist. _"Be careful!"_ she hissed against his ear.

"For the first time in my life, I am."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You _what?_"

"I. Had. Sex. With. Ricky. Was that slow enough for you?"

Grace had gone a shade paler than death. "But you're pregnant!"

"I know." Adrian fell back into the pillows on Grace's bed. "And it was amazing! You know, I think being pregnant actually _makes_ you horny."

"Adrian!"

"What? Your parents aren't home."

"Tom is downstairs!"

Adrian shrugged. "And what's he going to do?"

"Tell me parents!" Grace spun around in her desk chair a few times. "How does that even work, anyway? Doesn't your stomach get in the way? That can't be good for the baby…"

"Carefully," Adrian said simply. "In some ways, I think sex while pregnant is even better than regular sex. More intense!"

Grace covered her ears. "I'm not hearing this! Lalalalalalalala!" She scrunched her eyes shut for a full five minutes or more and then peeked one open. "Does this mean you're _with_ Ricky now? Regardless of whose baby it is?"

"I don't know. We didn't talk all that much last night. And I think maybe we would've talked this morning – he stayed over, by the way – but we both woke up late and I had to rush to leave. He wanted me to skip with him today, but I had a test first period that's worth a third of my grade and an oral presentation due after lunch and then we both had our own things to do after school, me with tutoring and work and him with his community service."

"And so you came over to my house after work instead of going to your apartment to see if Ricky was waiting there for you again?"

"I had to tell somebody. I was bursting!"

Grace shook her face into her hands. "Why am I such a good friend?"

"I do have a small problem though."

"What?"

"Ben."

"Ben? Ben is small?"

Adrian smirked. "Despite what outward appearances might imply, he's_ not_ small."

"_Oh God!"_ The blonde snapped up a pillow from under Adrian's head and tried to wrap it around her ears to no avail.

"But yes, he is the small problem."

"Why?" she groaned.

"Because I – well, I…maybe lately I've been thinking being with Ben wouldn't be so terrible."

"So you're in love with Ben too?"

"In love? Hardly! Come on, Grace. That's like calling someone who has gone to church once a convert. But I do…feel guilty. It almost makes me wish he was still with the Juergens girl, just so things would be simple. But simple would be too easy."

"The Lord likes to challenge us."

"Don't get all religious on me," Adrian grumped. "I only came over here to get this off my chest, not to be hear a sermon."

"And Lord knows you don't need more _sermon_."

Adrian wiggled her brows. "Was that a pun, I smell?" She sat up and looked over her friend who was turning a lovely shade of red. "And a _dirty_ pun at that! Oh, Missy Grace, you're finally growing up!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, Dad," Ben asked as Leo wandered into the kitchen for breakfast.

Leo yawned as he poured himself a freshly brewed cup of French Vanilla coffee. "Mhmm?" he mumbled into his cup.

"Are our passports still in date?"

Leo nodded, sipping slowly. "I think so, why?"

"I got some mail yesterday." He pushed the letter from Bologna across the table to where his father usually sat. "We're being invited to Bologna this summer."

Leo stumbled over to inspect the letter before finally shutting it back in its envelope. "That's nice," he nodded, "but you know you can't go. You might have a new baby by the end of the school year."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," Ben agreed. "And I have a proposition for you."

Leo sat down and folded his arms across the table with interest. "I'm listening."

With a grin, Ben produced something from his robe pocket, a stapled, multi-page, handwritten letter on blue lined paper which he handed to his father. "I wrote them back, tell me what you think."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Excuse me, Adrian!"

Adrian paused mid-step. She was halfway past her boss's office when she heard him calling after her and quickly turned around and poked her head back in. "Yes?"

Mr. Lentz motioned his arm. "Could you come here a moment?" he asked, gesturing to his computer. "I've got something I'd like you to take a look at."

Adrian groaned inwardly. It was Saturday, her shift was nearly over, and her feet were killing her. The last thing she desired was to do another project. "Sure," she said anyway, forcing a smile. "What do you need?" She approached his desk.

"Your opinion." He beckoned her around the desk and pointed to his computer screen, revealing two dresses. "I'm working in inventory – what I should keep, what should go – and I'd like your thoughts. Both dresses have been low sellers, which do you think should go?"

Adrian examined both dresses: one slinky and black, the other a sleeveless satiny tan. "I've always been a fan of 'the little black dress' but I am rather fond of the cut of this one," she said, pointing to the tan dress.

"I am too," Mr. Lentz agreed. "So why don't we see how it fits?" He lifted his hands to Adrian's waist, forcefully turned her around, and brought her down on his lap.

Adrian's eyes bulged. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Mr. Lentz smirked. "You didn't think I_ really_ hired you for your ability to think on your feet, did you? Although I am interested in seeing what you can do _off_ your feet." He slid his hands down Adrian's hips and pressed her legs firmly against his. "And I know you need this job, Adrian. Who else is going to hire you in your condition? I've done you a favor and in return, you need to do me one. So now it's time to pay the piper!"


	21. Whoomp, There She Goes

**A/N: **Thanks for the fabulous comments on the last chapter! I completely agree with you, **islandofhopex**, about the pathetically sad state _Secret Life_ is in right now. It makes me sick how sad the show is right now. There are several episodes of season four I haven't even watched and don't intend to because it's just such a failure. I've been seriously considering dropping it from my DVR, because they just take up space and I never even watch the new episodes. There's always NetFlix, if I decide to continue the _Turning Tables_ version of re-envisioning the seasons and I need to get a general idea of what happened in them, I guess. But anyway, I really appreciate the comments and I'm so glad you feel my writing has given new life to the characters for you (and even done better in some respects, which is like pure candy in that I just go wild when I get reviews like that)! :D

_**Turning Tables**_

**Whoomp, There She Goes**

"Adrian!"

"Grace, what are you doing here?"

"Can I come see my friend at work?"

Adrian skirted out from behind the counter with her hands on her hips. "Actually, no. It's unprofessional."

"I never get to see you," Grace whined.

"Grace, you need to-"

"And who is this?"

Adrian stopped at the sound of her boss's voice. "Mr. Lentz," she said tightly. "This is…my friend Grace. Grace, this is my boss, Francis Lentz."

"It's lovely to meet you!" Grace peeped.

"And I, you." Grace blushed as the older man took her offered hand and kissed the back of her hand. "I was just hoping to drop off a little something for my friend here, is that alright?"

"Oh?" Mr. Lentz asked, eyeing the package under Grace's arm. "Let's see it then."

Grace offered up the package to the Latina. "I thought you could use a little looking after," she said as her friend peeled off the paper and opened the box, revealing a tiny golden angel pin.

Adrian scowled. "And why would I need this?"

"Guidance. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood."

"A pin doesn't guide, Grace."

"But God does. And so do his messengers," she said, indicating the angel. She took the pin from her friend and carefully attached it to Adrian's shirt. "What do you think?" she asked, looking to Mr. Lentz.

"Beautiful."

Grace squealed. "I'll see you later then?"

Adrian glanced at her boss uneasily. "If I don't have to work late."

"I'm sure she'll be able to meet you on time," he smiled.

"Great! Bye, Adrian!"

"Bye, Grace."

When Grace was gone, Mr. Lentz turned to face his employee. "Cute friend. She's not looking for a job, is she?"

Adrian snarled: "You stay away from her!"

Mr. Lentz leaned in close to her face, almost bringing their mouths together, but stopping short. "I like that, save it for later."

Adrian curled her fist in disgust as he sauntered back to his office and brought it down in an echoing slam against the countertop.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Mom, it's me again." Ben knelt before his mother's headstone. "I brought something to show you." He unfolded a small envelope and retrieved a black and white picture which he pointed at the headstone. "This is your granddaughter." He lifted a gloved finger to his eye and wiped it. "She's a gorgeous little blob, isn't she?" He scooted closer. "If you look really close, you can even see that she's sucking on her thumb. Isn't that crazy? Sucking on her thumb from inside the womb!"

His smile cracked a moment later and he returned the photo to its envelope. "I'm having a dilemma, though, and it kind of revolves around her. I already kind of talked to Dad about this, but you were always a better listener…or maybe that's just because you and I talked more than Dad did. Not to imply that he buried himself in his work, but…you know what I mean."

Ben crawled up against the headstone and rested his cheek against the icy granite. "The thing is, I have these feelings for Amy and I have Ashley telling me Amy still has feelings for me too, but no reciprocation from Amy. And then I – I think I also have feelings for Adrian. I can't quite describe it." He used his gloved index fingers to trace the two _A_'s in his mother's name.

"I'm thinking about telling Adrian how I feel," Ben confessed. "I have so much to lose though. I think she still has feelings for Ricky, but I've been thinking that if it turns out I'm the father, maybe I want more with her than strictly split visitation. I don't want to jump into marriage and a condo, but…but I know that eventually I would like to find what you and Dad had. And maybe Adrian's The One?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Mr. Lentz flicked the lit sign in the store window off and used his master key to lock the front door as Adrian stood at the back of the stair, hanging up a pile of clothing from the dressing rooms. "We're closing up early today," he spoke silkily. "When you're done, could you please meet me in my office? Thank you!"

Adrian felt her stomach churn in revolt as he slipped into the back. As slow as she could, she hung up the clothes, moving around the room as though her feet were filled with lead. By the time she was done, thirty minutes had elapsed, and she began her laborious journey towards her boss's office. Once there, she hovered in the doorframe, watching him as he sat reclined in his chair behind his desk.

"Don't be shy," he said, waving her in.

Adrian inched in, turning her face away from his as she got closer, almost as though he smelt like rotten eggs or skunk. "Do you do favors for all your female employees or is it just me?" she hissed once she was standing in front of him.

"Let's put it this way: you're not the only woman I've helped make it up the professional ladder." He flicked his fingers, ushering her closer. "But you are special," he said, as she lowered herself onto his lap.

"_How?"_

"You're in a unique position, Adrian." He ran his fingers – studded with gaudy rings – through her onyx locks. "You're sixteen, you're pregnant…and you're of a…" His finger trailed the length of her jaw. "…_sensual_ minority."

"Which would make you look all the worse if I told."

"But you won't. You can't afford to. And besides, what would that prove anyway? It would simply be my word against yours. Wouldn't you rather enjoy the benefits I can give you inside of fighting me tooth and nail? Clearly you have no problem giving it up, so what's the problem now? Besides, it's too late to turn back now, you've already signed and delivered."

"What turns you on about a pregnant teenager anyway?"

"A pregnant woman isn't incapable of pleasure," he smiled. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, a little less talk and…"

Adrian placed her hands forcefully on the man's shoulders and ground herself against his lap, all the while casting a steely look into his dark eyes. When he began to shake his head, she stopped. "What? A lap dance," she said, "that's what you wanted."

"Last time. That's what I wanted _last time_. You're now a willing participant in our agreement, which means I'm taking the liberty of increasing my salary." He pointed to the floor. "You can start by getting on your knees."

Adrian gasped. "I'm pregnant!"

"Then don't swallow, that's your choice." He glanced boredly at his watch. "And I don't have all night."

Clamping her mouth shut, Adrian slid into a kneeling position and began to unzip her boss's pants. As pulled down the zipper she lifted her head and shook it. _"No."_

"No?"

"No." Adrian rose to her feet and folded her arms. "You can go fuck yourself."

Mr. Lentz shook his head. "Well I won't make a girl do what she won't," he said coolly, "but I can tell you you're making a massive mistake. Not only will I fire you, but who knows what you might've stolen from my establishment?"

Adrian scoffed. "I'm as scared of threats as I am of your dick, reason being: they're about the same size." She strode for the door.

"You're not getting away with this!"

"Right back atcha, _gilipollas!_"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What are you doing?" Margaret asked slyly as she stood on the last step of her son's room.

Ricky poked his head up from the spot that he was kneeling beside, with a plastic plug halfway into the wall socket. "Tidying up."

"Looks like baby proofing to me."

Ricky shrugged. "Maybe it is."

Margaret stepped off the step and stood beside Ricky. "I thought you said you didn't want to baby proof until after the paternity test?"

"Adrian's baby is going to be in my life either way."

"How's that?"

"I've – _we've_ – decided that we're going to try this, this…being in a relationship. A real one, with no cheating."

"Even if the baby isn't yours?"

"Even if it isn't mine."

"That's a big commitment, Ricky. I will be the first one to say that families can come in all shapes and sizes, but don't forget, you are still only in high school, and most high school romances don't last, even and perhaps especially, between teen parents."

"I know all that. I know! But this time it's different. With Adrian, it feels different. I _want_ to change with her, to be better."

"There's a difference between wanting to be better and wanting _her_ to make you better."

"_I_ want to be better. For me. And her. And the baby. I know I can."

Margaret encircled her son in a hug. "I know you can too, I always have. I'm so proud of you, Ricky!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Did you get it?" Adrian asked as she blew through Grace's bedroom door.

"Straight from heaven's eyes to my laptop," Grace beamed. She swiveled in her chair and waved to Adrian as the latter walked towards her. Simultaneously on her laptop screen, the image of Grace grinning and waving in her chair appeared.

Adrian reached down to the angel pin on her shirt and pulled it off. She turned the angel towards herself and smiled at it, watching from the corner of her eye as her face appeared on Grace's laptop screen. "And this is why you don't sexually harass your employees," she said with a smile. "See you in court, _Francis_." She adjusted something on the back of the pin and the image on Grace's screen went black.

"I can't believe he had the gall to do that to you," Grace spoke as Adrian climbed onto her bed.

"I'm a triple threat minority," Adrian said. "He thought I looked like an easy target. I'm not. The Francis Lentzes and Bob Underwoods of the world are the reason I want to go into family law, so I can help people like Ricky and I from people like them. They're pigs. _!Repugnante!_"

Grace pulled her knees up to her chest, resting the heels of her feet on the edge of her chair. "I hope you bury that creep!"

Adrian nodded. "Thanks for helping me, Grace. You coming in the way you did, he didn't suspect a thing."

"I still don't think I could've done what you did though…I can't believe you actually gave him a lap dance the first time."

"I knew that if I refused him, I'd lose my job and it really would've been my word against his. I knew it wasn't going to stop with just one lap dance, I had to catch him in the act."

"Still, it seems like an awfully big price."

"It wouldn't have been a choice everyone could make. Or should make. But it was how I wanted to do it."

"What if they try to use it against you when you file charges?"

Adrian stared at the ceiling. "I have no doubt that'll be the case. The criminal justice system in ripe with victim blaming." She shook her head. "Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore tonight, okay? Let's just…do something. Go somewhere! The Dairy Shack? The movies? My nerves are wound so tight right now-" She suddenly bounced off the bed.

"What!" Grace yelped. She grabbed her ballet flat from the floor. "Is there a spider?"

Adrian began to laugh as she grabbed her cell phone which was vibrating on the mattress. "Must've fallen out of my back pocket," she said. "It's just – I thought – I told you, my nerves are like..." She motioned her hands as if she was grabbing someone by the shirt collar and tightening her grip into fists.

Grace let the shoe drop back to the floor and she absently wiped her brow. "Who is it?"

"It's Ben."

Grace tilted her head curiously. "What does he want on a Saturday night?"

"He wants to see me. Says we need to talk."

Grace crossed her arms. "Are you gonna go?" She eyed an English book that was resting beside her laptop. "You know what, I have an English essay to write tonight anyway, so maybe you should? My parents hate it when I pull all nighters anyway."

Adrian nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Surprising her friend, she suddenly crossed the room to hug her. "Thanks again, Grace."

"_Ne nada,"_ the blonde winked. "Best…_amiga_?"

"Best _amigas_," Adrian laughably agreed.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben paced back and forth in front of Adrian's apartment. He'd been there about forty-five minutes before he'd decided to text her. During that time, George had come and went again, as had a few neighbors, one of which gave him a disapproving glare as he'd hobbled inside three doors down. Another forty-minutes elapsed after his text and Ben was ready to sit down his legs were so tired by the time he finally heard echoing footsteps in the hallway. Perking up he looked in the direction of the sound and beamed when he saw Adrian heading his way.

"What's the rush?" she asked, absently digging around in her purse for her keys.

"I need to talk to you."

"You said as much in the text. Do I need to be worried?" She stopped when she saw him looking at her and inadvertently felt a little smile take shape at the corner of her lips. "What?"

Ben shook his head. "You – you have that glow," he said. "The one they always talk about pregnant women having. I never noticed before."

Adrian made a noise, a crossbreed between a laugh and a bashful exhale. "Thanks?"

"You – you look beautiful," he said sincerely.

Adrian swallowed, completely taken aback by the comment. As she looked at him in the artificial hallway light, she realized how much he reminded her of the kid she first met back at the retreat. "Yeah?" she asked reflexively.

Ben nodded. "I need to know something, Adrian." He stepped closer to her and placed his hand on her billowing stomach. "Answer me truthfully: the night we met, what did it mean to you? Why were you so intent on having sex with me? Did it – did taking my virginity – mean anything to you? Or was it really just that I was the first guy you had come across in two months?" Ben rubbed a circle around her stomach and then moved it up the length of her torso, until he was cupping her breast. Not in a possessive or demanding way, but simply taking in the magnificence of her body; the beauty of life. Finally, he lifted his hand to her face, holding her chin. "And most importantly: do I mean anything to you now?"

Adrian opened her mouth, but there didn't seem to be a gateway from the words in her head to the opening of her mouth. She sought to close it, but before she could, she suddenly found Ben kissing her and suddenly that one night at the majorette retreat all came rushing back.


	22. One Night At A Majorette Retreat

**A/N: **Finally, we get to find out how they met! (And how it differed from how Amy and Ricky's version in the show.)

_**Turning Tables**_

**One Night At A Majorette Retreat**

"_Shit!"_

_A blonde head poked out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in her mouth. She looked Adrian up and down, finally pulled her toothbrush out, and asked with an air of annoyance, "Something wrong?"_

_Adrian looked up from her luggage bag, the contents of which was strewn all across her bed. It was only the first morning after she'd arrived at the majorette retreat and she hadn't had a chance to get to know a handful of her new girls sharing the duplex with her for the duration of the semester – although she was sure the girls from her own team would quickly fill them in on her pariah status – let alone thoroughly go through her belongings the night before. "I forgot my pills," she said lamely._

"_Your pills?"_

_Adrian glared. "My birth control."_

_The blonde snorted. "Why would you bring birth control to an all female retreat? It's not like you're going to be having sex with anyone." She shrugged and drew the bristles across the front of her teeth. "At least not anyone with a penis."_

"_They do help regulate your period, if you didn't know." Adrian scowled as the girl shrugged and disappeared back into the bathroom. Cursing her own stupidity, she began to shove her belongings back into her suitcase. "I could ask Mom to mail them," she mused. But as she looked towards the bathroom, she realized the blonde was right: it's not like sex was an option._

_When would there be time, anyway? Let alone with whom. The only men she's seen were two or three times her age and in prestigious positions of power. Not that one wouldn't want to screw one of the hundreds of majorettes present, but Adrian did not intend on being the girl in that hypothetical scenario. "Screw it!" she spat. "It's only two months."_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"_Benjamin. Son, wake up."_

_Ben's eyes creaked open at the sound of his father's persistent voice. He felt his dad's hands on his shoulders, gently rolling him back and forth like dough and he groaned loudly. "Whhmm?" he grumbled, ducking his head beneath his sheets._

"_I'm sorry to wake you up so early, but I need your help." Leo grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it down, exposing his son to the cold chill of the morning._

_Ben curled into the fetal position. "Dad!" he yelped._

"_Ben, come on. I'm counting on you!" He edged a steaming silver thermos at his boy. "We need to get going! Up! Up!"_

"_What?" Ben grumbled, becoming more alert with the pungent aroma of Brazilian coffee that was wafting out of the thermos. "I – I thought today was the day you were going to that catering thing for the – the majorettes?"_

"_It is," Leo confirmed. "And you're going with me."_

"_What?"_

_Leo sat down beside his son. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Ben, but I got a call from Bunny's husband about an hour ago. She's come down with a pretty bag bug and she's in no condition to get out of bed, let alone take a jet ride up to spend all day catering."_

_Ben pushed his brows together and scrunched up his nose as he sipped the tart coffee. His stomach growled in protest, but the steam felt good under his nose. "So get someone else to cover."_

"_I've been making calls for the last hour, but no one's available on such late notice."_

"_So you want me to go in her place? Dad, I can't do that! I have no idea what she does, I have no training, no-"_

"_It's alright, Ben!" Leo interrupted. "I can take on the more difficult tasks and re-delineate anything else, I just need you to help me set up so we're not behind schedule. But that means I need you up and getting ready right now, because we leave in an hour."_

_Ben rotated his head towards the clock. It was three minutes away from five in the morning. His head was spinning. "This sucks," he whimpered._

_Leo laid a hand on his son's back and patted him. "Don't think of this as a punishment, Ben, think of it as an opportunity. You're going to get some valuable life experience out of this."_

_Ben pressed the thermos to his lips and glared at his father over the lid. "I beg to differ."_

"_And did I mention you're also going to get paid?"_

_Ben raised a single eyebrow. "I think I'd rather sleep."_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"_Do you ever wonder why there are no male majorettes?"_

"_Because it has 'ettes' in the title?"_

"_Because most guys don't want to be caught dead in a mini skirt?"_

"_Yeah, but there are male cheerleaders. What's the difference?"_

"_A male majorette wouldn't have to catch girls, they'd have to wave batons."_

_Adrian fell back onto her bed in the corner of the room. For almost two months this had been standard practice: sit in her lone corner of the room and listen to the other girls in her duplex discuss the one thing the camp didn't provide them: boys._

"_I'm sure there are male majorettes somewhere, just never at these retreats. There can't be, like, none, right? I mean, wouldn't that violate some kind of gender equality bill somewhere or something?"_

"_I don't really care, I just know that I need a good lay. God, I can't believe I go without sex for two months every year! Almost makes me wish I was a lesbian."_

"_Why be a lesbian when you can be bisexual?"_

"_Are you propositioning me, Delaney?"_

_Adrian grabbed her pillow and smashed it over her face. "Kill me now!"With as much as her cohorts discussed sex, she theoretically should've fit right in. Hell, she should've been Top Bitchorette, but somehow she always ended up the social pariah. In most ways, that was fine, but on those rare occasions, sometimes she just wanted companionship too, and the form wouldn't have mattered. That was how Antonio had been: he started out as the perfect companion and love just organically grew out of that. But he was gone now and he was never coming back._

"_Screw this shit," she spat as she rolled off her bed and threw her pillow at the wall. "You're all fucking prima donna whores anyway."_

"_Says the Resident Slut of Grant High!"_

_Adrian licked her finger suggestively. "And while I'm thinking of it, tell Shane hi for me, Chrissy. Remind him to call me while you're at it. I'm worried about him, he mentioned there was something missing in his relationship."_

"_Bitch!"_

_Adrian lifted her skirt, flashing the group a bit of ass before skipping out the door and slamming it against the sounds of racial slurs and sexist curses. It was bullshit what she had to put up with during the school year and then compounded by the multi-school retreat. If she had known that was how being a majorette was going to be when she signed up her Freshman year, she might not have done it. On the other hand, she still loved the dancing and performing and even the costumes made her feel sexy. It was something she knew she was good at and moreover, something she could show people she was good at, which wasn't something she could publically show in the same way by being an honor student._

_The Latina scurried down the sidewalk. It was only about three in the afternoon, give or take, but oddly crisp. On second thought, she should've brought a jacket and probably changed out of her uniform into pants or something, but there was no way she was going back now. Cursing to herself, she headed for the dining hall. Not that she had any money with her for snacks, but at least there were heaters in there._

_Three-fourths of the way there she noticed that the doors were open and beefy men were hauling in large objects. She couldn't make out what, but they were glinting in the sunlight, so she figured something metal. Quirking an eyebrow, she quickened her pace and briefly mused that maybe she should've joined track instead. A minute or so later, she skid in between a couple of men carrying large metal trays and recognized them as heating trays. As she surveyed the dining hall, she noticed that extra tables had been brought in and set up with the heating trays and the tablecloths covering said tables were emblazoned with _Boykewich Butchers_._

"_Boykewich," she muttered to herself. Suddenly a few commercials and a local freeway billboard sprung to mind. "The Sausage King," she smirked, thinking of the plump but always smiling headshot that accompanied the advertisements. He was somewhat of a local celebrity, often touted as a true life Cinderella story of someone who had built his franchise from the ground up and ran a clean business with the shake of his hand. Frankly, it wasn't surprising that he was catering, and given his reputation, she suspected he was probably doing it at a discount too, if not altogether free._

_As she thought about it, she could almost see the up close shots of the grilled steaks seeping their juices with the stab of a knife, the thick hamburger patties piled high with the veggies so fresh drops of water were still lingering on the tomato skins, and the steaming ribs dripping with Boykewich Original BBQ Sauce. Her stomach began to growl and she almost thought she could smell the food until she opened her eyes and realized that the men she'd seen toting things in were now bringing in actual food._

_Adrian felt her mouth grow overly slick as the smells rocked her olfactory senses. Looking around the room, she noted that a clock on the far wall meant that dinner wasn't for another two-and-a-half hours. "Ugh…" Her eyes danced back and forth between the door and the doors. If she left, where else could she go that was warm? If she stayed, she would be agonized by hunger._

"_This is a lose-lose situation."_

"_Don't be so dramatic, son."_

_Adrian's head snapped around at the sounds of the voices. The first was unfamiliar, but the second was-_

"_Leo!"_

_Leo held up his finger to Ben. "I'll be right back. Coming, Jerry!"_

_Adrian watched the elder man wander off in the direction of the man who had hollered for him, leaving his gawky son completely by himself. She studied the boy for a moment. He was tall, but he had a baby face, so it was hard for her to pinpoint how old he was, even though she was typically pretty good with ages. She didn't recognize him from her school, though. Granted, it was a big school, but she knew a pretty decent number of the male populace. On the other hand, he could go to a different high school. Either way, she knew one thing: the Sausage King had called him his son. Which meant, "So…you must be the Sausage Prince?"_

_It was downright hysterical, the look of horror on his face. It was like a deer caught in the headlights or a teenage boy whose mother just walked in on him watching a pornographic video. She sashayed over to him, carefully placing her hand on her jutted hip. "I just heard you talking, so I know you can speak. Am I not good enough for you, Royalty?"_

"_I-it's not that!" Ben sputtered, shaking his head and waving his hands emphatically. "I just – I – I'm, uh, s-suprirsed."_

"_Surprised?"_

"_That you're…" The painfully visible Adam's apple in his throat jumped up and down like a beach ball floating on choppy seas. "…talking to me?"_

"_How old are you anyway?"_

"_Fifteen," he mumbled. "I mean, I just turned fifteen. This summer, I mean. I mean-"_

"_I should've guessed," Adrian interrupted. "I mean," she smirked, "by the way you're staring at my breasts, it should've been a dead giveaway."_

_Ben turned his head away. "No! No, I wasn't! I-" he covered his eyes with his hand "-didn't!"_

"_Do me a favor and don't lie to me, I get enough of that from everyone else. You were staring at my breasts. So what? I have nice breasts. In fact, I have_ great_ breasts. I don't blame you for looking."_

"_You – you don't?" Ben asked, peeking out from under his hand._

"_No." Adrian gave him a once over. "What's your name, anyway?"_

"_Ben. Ben Boykewich."_

_Adrian extended her manicured hand. "Adrian Lee."_

_Ben gripped her hand and shook it with a little too much vigor. "H-hi," he sputtered._

"_So what're you doing here?" she asked, nodding in the direction of his father._

_Ben straightened his posture in a way that reminded Adrian a bit of a parakeet ruffling its feathers. "Oh, uh…my dad's catering the retreat's end-of-summer bash thing."_

"_And you're here to learn the family business?"_

"_Actually, his right hand, Bunny, called in sick, so he tapped me at the last minute."_

_Adrian cracked a wicked grin. "So how long are you gonna be around for?"_

"_Just today. I'm helping set up and then we'll stay for the dinner and head back to our hotel."_

_The Latina licked her lips. "Lucky you," she purred. "You're literally the only teenage boy here."_

_Ben flushed a color that would've made scarlet pale by comparison. "Yeah…maybe lucky if I was some football jock."_

"_You seem cute enough to me." Going by the look on his face, Adrian guessed he was likely a virgin._

"_Do me a favor and don't lie to me, I get enough of that from everyone else."_

_Adrian cocked her head to the side. "Touché."_

"_Ben! Sorry about that, son, Jerry just informed me there are some issues with a couple of the warming trays. They aren't heating properly and I need to leave to go take care of that. I'm really sorry, but do you think you can go find Jeff and Ramon to help them beginning setting up as much food as we can before I get back?"_

_Adrian had turned away to avoid Leo looking at her as he talked to Ben, who she heard agreeing, though she could tell he wasn't a fan of the idea. After a moment, Leo departed, and Adrian spun back around with a brilliant idea. "Need help?"_

"'_Scuse me?"_

"_You said you're short staffed, so I'm offering my services."_

"_Don't you have – you know – majoretting to be doing or something?"_

_Adrian rolled her eyes. "Actually, no. You said yourself, this is the end-of-the-summer, so practice and drills are over and everyone is just hanging around talking about sex." Oh, how she loved to see the color bleed into his cheeks every time she mentioned something explicitly sexual. "Anyway, I have nothing better to do, so why not?"_

_Ben shrugged. "Just be careful you don't burn yourself on anything." He motioned his arm. "The trucks are this way."_

_Adrian kept in step with him, though he was a bit slow for her taste. "So where do you go to school?" she asked casually._

"_I'm starting Grant in September," he said, motioning to her Grant High uniform._

"_Really?" Adrian purred. "You have a girlfriend?"_

_Ben turned his face away to try and hide his burning cheeks. "No. Do you?"_

"_Have a girlfriend? No."_

"_A _boy_friend, I mean."_

"_Not one of those either."_

"_That's surprising."_

"_How so?"_

"_I just figured…"_

"_Figured what?"_

"_You know…"_

_Adrian grabbed him by the arm. "No, actually, I really don't."_

_Ben blustered. "Y – y – you're – _you know!_"_ At her blank stare he finally blurted out, _"Beautiful!"_ _As he felt her hand loosen, he immediately jerked it back and used it to cover his face. "Forget I said that."_

"_Why would I want to do that?" she demanded._

"_Because it sounds like a cheesy come-on and that's not how it was supposed to sound."_

_Adrian stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "And what's a better come on? 'You're a hot piece of ass and I'd like to fuck your brains out'? I don't know about you, but 'beautiful' is alright in my book."_

"_I – I guess you would know," Ben shrugged. "I, on the other hand, don't have a lot of experience with girls."_

"_Well I have a lot of experience with girls, being one myself. _And,_ I have a lot of experience with guys. Though, not quite of your caliber."_

"_My caliber?" he asked, as they reached the delivery truck. Ben climbed up the ramp with Adrian at his heels._

"_You're…" Adrian pursed her lips as she watched him gather an armful of boxes. "…sweet."_

"_You barely met me."_

"_I'm a good judge of character." She collected an armful of boxes herself and followed him back down the ramp. They were hot against her bare arms, almost too hot, and she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to make it all the way back to the dining hall without getting third degree burns._

"_Can I ask you a question?"_

"_I suppose."_

"_Why are you a majorette?"_

"_Why is anyone anything?"_

"_That's not an answer."_

_Adrian shrugged. "I like to dance. It's freeing."_

"_And why aren't you hanging out with the other majorettes?"_

"_Let's just say we don't see eye-to-eye." Adrian stopped. "I can't. I'm sorry!" She knelt down and relieved her arms of the boxes halfway there. "It's not the weight, it's the heat. You've got a long sleeved shirt, but me…"_

_Ben knelt down beside her and also set his boxes down. "You don't have to help me, you know."_

"_I know."_

_Ben tapped his fingers against his knees for a moment, then peeled off his sweater – a very Danny Tanner sweater at that – and handed it to her._

"_Then you're going to burn yourself."_

"_I have tough skin."_

_Adrian frowned, not really believing him, but she nodded anyway. "Thanks." It was softer than expected and too long for her, so she had to roll up the sleeves, but invitingly warm in a way that she never wanted to take off. And for the next half hour, she helped him lug trays of food down to the dining hall until all of the delivery trucks were completely empty._

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"_This is _amazing_, my compliments to your father," Adrian mused as Ben walked out of the men's bathroom._

_Ben froze at the sight of her. "What are you doing here?"_

"_Following you."_

"_I can see that. Why?"_

"_Bored. And clearly you are too, otherwise you wouldn't have snuck off to the bathroom for the third time in twenty minutes."_

"_Maybe I had a bad piece of chicken?"_

"_If it were anyone other than the Sausage King, I might buy that." Adrian lifted the smoky barbeque covered drumstick off her plate and slid it into her mouth, licking it leisurely before slowly pulling it back out and then daintily nibbling at the sides with the tips of her teeth. "I _love_ these."_

_Ben quickly averted his eyes. "I'll let me dad know."_

"_Oh, come on, Benjamin," Adrian whined. "Don't be so shy. You're not the only one thinking it. And you know how I know?" She tossed her plate into a trashcan without taking her eyes off him. "You were staring at my breasts again. And you know what else?" She grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to face her. "You're probably thinking sex with me would be good. And you know what?" When she shook his head she nodded. "You'd be right."_

"_You don't want to have sex with me," Ben glared. "Girls like you don't want to have sex with me."_

_Adrian looped one manicured finger in the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him towards her until only a few inches of space separated them. "And what, exactly, are 'girls like me'?" She leaned close to Ben's face as though she was about to kiss him, then turned to face to the side and pressed her cheek to his, allowing her lips to hang right next to his ear. "Touch 'em."_

"_Wh-what?"_

"_My breasts," she said seductively. "Touch. Them."_

"_I-"_

_Adrian grabbed his wrist and moved it up between their bodies until they were beneath her bust, then she shoved his hand a little further until she felt his clammy fingers grave her exposed skin. When she released her hand, Ben did as expected: let his hand linger there of its own accord. Hoping to help him along, she jutted her chest out, forcing his fingers down the valley of her cleavage. "What do you think?"_

"_Th –they're nice."_

"_Of course they are." Suddenly she stepped away, leaving Ben standing there as if he was groping the air, frozen in place. "Why don't you follow me, hmm?" She wagged her finger at him like a puppy and then turned on her heel and headed for the doors. Less than five minutes later, she had found her way to one of the dark, empty delivery trucks, which she had conveniently left the cab to unlocked._

"_I don't think we should be doing this," Ben whispered. "What if someone walks out?"_

"_Dinner won't be over for another hour at least," Adrian countered as she heaved open the door and climbed inside._

"_I really don't-"_

_Adrian grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward until he was forced to climbed up. "Good boy. Shut the door."_

_Ben's hand was shaking as he pulled the door shut and hit the lock with his elbow. He slowly turned to Adrian, eyes wildly roaming her body as they adjusted to the darkness of the cab. His hands were moving around, touching everything except for her._

_Adrian grabbed both of his hands and steadied them, then she scooted closer and placed both hands on her hips, held them there, and then leaned in and pressed her moist lips to his neck. "I haven't had a boy touch me in two months," she whispered as she drew her lips up his neck and over his earlobe. "I _need_ this."_

"_We don't even know each other," Ben protested, though he didn't remove his hands from her body._

"_Just make out with me, that's all I want. I just need a little release, Ben. Can't you do that for a pretty girl?" Adrian dug her fingers into his hair and dropped her mouth to his, kissing him deeply. While their lips were locked, she maneuvered her hands to his sweater, unbuttoned it, and stripped it off his arms._

_Ben gasped. The sound of his heartbeat was audible in the cab. Without truly thinking about what he was doing, he pulled Adrian closer and kissed her again. "You're not pretty," he whispered. "You're _beautiful_."_

"_Show me_ how _beautiful," she demanded._

_Ben pushed her up against the driver's side door and straddled her legs. As if he were handling an infant, he unzipped the back of her uniform and pulled it up over her head, revealing a lacy orange bra that was nearly the same color._

_Adrian closed her eyes as Ben kissed her neck and chest. "Have you done this before?" she asked, almost expecting him to say yes._

"_Am I – am I doing something wrong?" he asked, horror in his sweet brown eyes._

_Adrian shook her head. "No, you're doing everything exactly right." Adrian pushed him back onto the seat and scooted him over to the passenger side. She looped one finger under his shirt and pulled it up over his head, then tossed his shirt over the steering wheel. "You're a virgin, right?"_

_Ben nodded, cheeks colorful even in the darkness._

_Adrian nodded as she slid down onto the floor and reached to unbuckled his pants. "That's too bad."_

"_W-hy?" he gulped._

"_Because we don't have a condom, so I guess we'll just have to settle for-"_

"_I have a condom."_

"_What?"_

"_I – I have a condom!" Ben practically yelped. He was desperately digging into the back pocket of his jeans and then victoriously pulled out his wallet. Ben fumbled to open the leather casing and dug around until he pulled a small, bent, wrapped condom out from the bottom of the wallet._

_Adrian eyed it suspiciously. "How long have you had that?"_

"_I – uh – not very long," he squeaked._

_Adrian narrowed her eyes as she took the condom from his pinched fingers. "_Why_ do you have it?"_

"_Protection?"_

"_Yeah, but you're a _virgin_-"_

"_You never know," Ben said, motioning about the cab. "Isn't that what they're for? Better safe than sorry?"_

_Adrian clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "I can respect that," she said. Without really thinking about it, she nodded. "Alright, Sausage Prince, tonight you get to see how sausages are made…"_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian pressed her hands against Ben's chest, pushing him away. "Ben, I – _Ricky!_"

Ben sputtered in confusion, his eyes as huge as whole planets. _"Ricky?"_ he barked.

Adrian pointed behind Ben to the other end of the hall where Ricky was transfixed on them. Her eyes began to water. "It's not what it looks like!" she desperately exclaimed, knowing that even as she said it to him, it had to be one of the oldest clichés in the book. Adrian stumbled backwards, tripping over the purse she'd dropped when Ben kissed her, and landing harshly on the ground. For several moments, the hallway was altogether silent. Then Adrian gripped her stomach and the silence gushed with a bloodied scream.


	23. And Unto Us, A Daughter Is Born

**A/N: **Last chapter! I'm so glad to finally have completed this! :D Please let me know if, after you're done with this chapter, anyone is interested in a _Turning Tables: Season Two_.

_**Turning Tables**_

**And Unto Us, A Daughter Is Born**

"_Adrian!" Ben's and Ricky's voices rang out as one indistinguishable voice._

_The pain was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. The only thing she could compare it to was her worst menstrual, if the pain was multiplied a thousand times. Adrian couldn't bring herself to focus on anything other than the pain, even – and perhaps especially – when Ricky and Ben knelt down on either side of her._

"_What is it? What's wrong?" Ben breathed, his hands roaming the air but never actually touching Adrian._

_Ricky suddenly pelted Ben with his keys. "Get my car!"_

_Ben shrank back, shaking his head. "I can't drive!" he squeaked. Then he pointed. "My driver!" he said, voice wild. "There's enough room for us to all fit in the back of the limo!"_

_Adrian fisted her shirt and screamed again. "Help me!" she pleaded, her eyes stinging with salt._

_Ricky slid one arm under her back and the other under her knees and somehow managed to pick both her and himself up from the hallway floor. "Where's the limo?" he demanded._

_Adrian shuddered at the vibrations of his voice and whimpered into his t-shirt. "D-d-on't yell. I'm sorry, don't yell!"_

"_Th – this way!"_

"_Shh, don't speak," Ricky hushed. He abruptly adjusted her, maybe even pulling her closer, and then began to run._

_Adrian cringed each time one of his feet pounded against the pavement. Instinctively, she curled her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest. There was still pain, but it was coming in choppy waves, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the next tsunami would hit._

"_You're going to be okay, Adrian," Ben whispered as Ricky laid her onto the backseat of the limo._

_But all Adrian could do was stare at Ricky's eyes as he shrank back to the opposite seat, listening to Ben try his best to comfort her, until the pain crashed over her body again and eyes clamped shut, as if trying to close the windows to her soul, and undeniably failing._

"Good afternoon, Adrian!" Grace chirped as she bounced into Adrian's bedroom like a rabbit on caffeine. "I brought cookies!"

Adrian peered over the rim of her laptop and quickly shut it down, pushed it aside, and motioned her hands vigorously for the cookies. _"Mmm!"_ she groaned as soon as she had her hands on one and mouth on another.

Grace beamed as she set the plate on Adrian's bedside table and proceeded to plop down on the edge of the bed. "We miss you at school," she said sadly.

"Who's 'we'?" Adrian asked suspiciously. She dusted the crumbs from her chest and chomped into another cookie.

"Well, you know…me and, uh…"

"Mhmm," Adrian intoned, shaking her head. "I've decided that this premature labor was actually a blessing in disguise. I don't know how I would've faced the last few months going to school after Ricky saw me kissing Ben…_after_ I told Ricky that we would give it a real shot. I think they both must hate me."

"They don't _hate_ you."

"It's close enough. Neither of them barely say two words to me when they come by to see how the baby – not me – is. They don't talk to me unless they _have_ to do. I might as well be disconnected from this baby already."

"You're a catch, Adrian. You can't help that both Ben and Ricky want to be with you and help raise your baby. In fact, you're incredibly lucky, most teenage girls can't even keep the one true father of their babies around. It's just unfortunate that they both decided they wanted to be with you at the same time…and that the stress from it sent you into premature labor."

Adrian cupped her hands around her swollen belly. "I hate being stuck in bed," she said, trying to divert the conversation away from her troubled love life, or, rather, lack thereof. "And I _hate_ the monthly injections to prevent the labor."

"On the sunny side, you've been able to actually get _ahead_ in your classes with all this free time."

"And on the _gloomy_ side," she mocked, "being on mandatory bed rest means no tutoring and no work – even if I had a real job – which means no money."

Grace moved across the room to run her fingers over the sleek black crib, fully stocked with pink sheets, a matching bumper, and a mobile. Then she moved to the bassinet and fingered the lacy fabric. Lastly, she moved to the corner of the room, where a new changing table had been placed with a few packages of diapers and baby wipes. "You've got the bassinet from D.A. Enriquez, the crib from Ben and Mr. Boykewich, the refurbished changing table from the church at the shower…and of course the diapers supply from me." Grace clasped her hands together. "I think you'll be able to manage for a little while after the birth."

Adrian pressed her palm to her face. "Grace, you know nothing about the expense – monetary and emotional – of raising a kid. I was that kid, okay? I lived it. A couple packages of Huggies and a place to put a baby at night – or change it – does _not_ constitute the ability to raise a child. Do you know that at this point, as a single mother, it's likely going to cost me two-hundred-thirty-thousand-seven-hundred-twenty dollars to raise this baby?"

"But you're not a single mother. You'll have Ricky. Or Ben. And if it's Ben-"

"I can't count of anything or anyone, Grace. I can only count on myself. You never know what could happen? Ricky could be hit by a bus tomorrow. Ben and I could have a bigger falling out than we already do. I have to be able to provide for myself and this kid _by myself_ and anything else from Ben or Ricky needs to be gravy."

Grace bowed her head and returned to the bed. "I guess I see your point," she conceded. "But I still have faith that everything will work out for you. God works in mysterious ways and I wholeheartedly believe that He has a plan for us all. Everything happens for a reason, Adrian."

"You keep telling yourself that, Gracie."

A mischievous look suddenly crossed Grace's face. "So!" she blurted out, rubbing her hands together. "Changing the subject: have you settled on a name yet? You said last week you're narrowed it down to two and you were going to tell me when you decided?"

Adrian's eyes sparkled as she propped herself up against her headboard and wiggled her finger, beckoning the cheerleader closer. "I've decided!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"_Are you family?"_

_Ricky and Ben looked at one another and then turned their gaze back to the nurse behind the counter. "It's complicated-"_

"_I'm sorry, family only."_

_Ben's chest deflated, though he noted something in Ricky's eyes that chilled him, but he couldn't quite find the words to name it. Eventually, however, he watched the older boy collect himself and thank the woman for her help. Quietly, he tried to slip off while Ricky was distracted, but soon he heard the sixteen-year-old's footsteps charging after him._

"_We need to talk."_

"_I'm going to call Cindy-" He felt Ricky's hand on his shoulder and before he knew it he was staring eye-to-eye with the drummer. A flame of anger swelled in him and he pushed Ricky's hand off. "Don't touch me."_

"_Cindy's not home tonight, she on a roundtrip flight to New York."_

"_I want to leave her a message. She deserves to know what's going on with her daughter."_

_Ricky curled his fist. "I already tried, she didn't answer-"_

"_Did you leave a voicemail?"_

"_No-"_

"_Then I will."_

"_That's not the kind of thing you leave on a voicemail!"_

"_Says who?" Ben barked._

"_What were you doing with Adrian?"_

_Ben grit his teeth. "So now it really comes out? You don't care about Cindy at all, you just want to put your nose where it has no business being!"_

"_Don't you dare act all high and mighty, Boykewich. You're not stupid enough to think I don't realize what you're doing here, are you?"_

"_And what would that be, Underwood?"_

_Ricky scoffed. "You only want to call Cindy as an excuse to get out of confronting me about what you were doing with my girlfriend!"_

"_You're girlfriend?" Ben spat. "She's not yours!"_

"_Didn't she tell you? Though, on second thought, maybe she didn't, because you know why? You're a blip on the radar! I'm the one she wants. And I want her. We're in a relationship. Me and her. Not you!"_

"_Relationship! Since when? Since the beginning of school when you were sleeping with Adrian and trying to sleep with Grace or since you've distanced yourself from her when you found out her baby might be mine?"_

"_Since we had sex in her apartment Thursday night and we agreed to start over!"_

"_Excuse me!" The nurse from the check-in counter was suddenly behind them, hands on her hips and face an angry red. "This is a hospital, not Fight Club. You'll have to continue this conversation elsewhere."_

_Ben noticed several pairs of eyes were one them and his senses shot into hyper drive. "I'm sorry! I'm going." He was pretty sure he left skid marks on his way out, he was so embarrassed. Plus, he needed time to digest what Ricky just had told him._

Adrian hadn't been at school on Friday and when Ben had asked Grace about her but the cheerleader had been vague, and he'd felt uncomfortable pushing the subject. And that Monday, he'd skipped school to go to the cemetery so he could have a chance to sort out his feelings. In the course of those four days, how could he have missed so much?

"Stop it!" he seethed under his breath. There were some memories that he just couldn't not think about. They seemed as if they were their own entities at times, flicking him in the back of the head like elementary school bullies. "Stop thinking, just stop," he told himself, not paying attention to where he was pushing his shopping cart.

The corner caught the edge of a lemon display and a cascade of lemons began to roll off the stand like Niagara Falls. Ben cursed himself quietly as he dropped to his knees and scrambled to grab the egg shaped fruits as they rolled around on the waxy floor. "You idiot," he sighed to himself. "You can't do anything right."

A skinny hand dipped in front of his face, holding a lemon. "That's not true."

Ben tilted his head back, staring upside down at Amy's face. He couldn't bring himself to smile, so he simply accepted the lemon. "Never thought I'd hear that from you, considering you were one of my screw-ups."

Amy knelt down beside him and aided Ben in the collection of the lemons. "You never screwed me or our relationship up. Things just happened and we can't help the way we feel."

It seemed an ironic choice of words, considering he hadn't spoken to Amy in months. He'd seen her in the halls a few times since he'd kissed Adrian and, out of those few times, they'd acknowledged each other only once. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping, what else would I be doing in a grocery store?" Amy sat back on her heels. "What are _you_ doing here? I didn't really think-" she bit her lip, as if realizing her choice of words might not be the best "-doesn't your dad do the shopping?"

"Don't you mean: 'You're rich, doesn't someone do your shopping for you?'"

"Ben-"

"It's alright," he interrupted. "It's a reasonable assumption; most people make it. Actually, my dad does his own shopping. Sometimes I go with him. Today he needed my help because we're throwing surprise party for Camille."

"Camille?"

"My dad's personal assistant. Well, 'personal assistant' is an understatement. She's my dad's longest employee. I'm pretty sure the Boykewich Butcher franchise couldn't survive without her, she's been with the company for something like twenty-two years."

"Wow, long time."

"Yeah."

Amy stood up with an armful of lemons and glanced around, not really sure where to place them.

"Just set them in the basket," Ben sighed. "Can't put them back on display now."

"So," Amy began as she leaned over the edge of Ben's basket, "has, um, Adrian had the baby yet?"

"Wouldn't it be all over school if she had?" he asked without looking at her.

Amy shrugged and began to grab a few more lemons around her feet. "Maybe."

"She's friends with Grace," Ben said flatly. As he stood and faced her, he shook his head. "Amy, I know you're just trying to be cordial, but please: _don't_. Not about Adrian, not about the baby. It started problems the first time, didn't it? So what good could possibly come out of it now?"

Amy nodded. "I'm sorry I brought it up. In fact, I'm sorry I even came over here. I didn't mean to upset you, Ben. You just looked like you could use some help."

"I guess I'm just having one of those days."

Amy smiled a little. "You were having one when we met, too."

"Huh?"

"When we first met," Amy repeated with a bit of a laugh. "We ran right into each other and you said, 'Guess I'm just having one of those days.'"

Ben cracked a tiny smile. "I remember you looked so lost," he said, picking up a bruised lemon as he spoke. "Guess I'm the one who's lost now."

Amy took the lemon from his hand, their fingers lightly brushing as it happened. "I'll see ya around, Ben."

Ben watched her set the lemon into her basket and walk off. His heart ached a little as he looked back into his pocket, now covered in a sheet of pimpled yellow rind. He picked one up and examined it in the fluorescent light. "When life gives you lemons…" he sighed bitterly.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"_Why did you kiss her?" Ricky's tone was low, even. He slowly shut the door to Adrian's hospital room behind his back._

"_I want to see her," Ben demanded._

"_She's sleeping," Ricky rebuffed. "Cindy needs a drink," he added, pushing Ben away from the door. "We're going to the cafeteria."_

"_Cindy's here?"_

"_She said she got the voicemails and took the first flight back last night. She just got here an hour ago."_

_Ben glanced back at the door, but continued walking just ahead of the drummer. "What does she want?" he asked, retrieving his wallet from his pocket._

"_I said I'd get it," Ricky glared. When they reached the elevator, he pressed the down arrow and then positioned himself in such a way that Ben's only choice was to back up onto the elevator to get away from him, which hadn't opened yet. "Why'd you kiss her?" he asked again._

_There was a long silence as the elevator flashed between floors. "We have history."_

"_One night at a majorette retreat? That's not history, that's a one night stand."_

"_You would know, wouldn't you?"_

_Ricky grit his teeth. "She wants to be with me. You have no right to interfere in that."_

"_Maybe she doesn't know what she wants? She's pregnant and scared and confused. You don't know what happened between us that night! We shared something-"_

"_Special," Ricky mocked. "Yeah, that's what everyone says after their first time. Almost everyone." He scoffed. "That's why you never forget your first, Ben. But your first is rarely your last. And don't you dare tell me she's confused because of the hormones. Adrian is wholly capable of making her own decisions!"_

"_Oh yeah?" Ben bit back. "Then why are you scared of me being around her? Are you afraid she'll choose me?"_

"_Of course not."_

"_Then why don't you let her make her own choice, huh?"_

"_She already chose."_

_Ben shook his head. "No. What I'm saying is: let's wait for the paternity test. Let's wait for confirmation so we can all finally know where we stand, legally. And then we can lay our cards out on the table and let Adrian decide who she wants to be with."_

"_Even if you are the father," Ricky relented, "it doesn't give you claim to Adrian."_

"_You're right. She's not a piece of property. But if the baby's mine – or, or if it's yours – one of us is going to be in her life regardless, because being a father does give you rights to your child. And if she were to choose the one, the father will just have to figure out how to deal with that. So, can you deal with that?"_

_Ricky folded his arms. "She'll make the right choice."_

"_I hope so."_

The timer on the automated pitcher binged and a ball came hurdling towards Ricky, who poised at the end of the batting cage with a baseball in hand. The ball cracked against the bat and shot into the wire wall of the cage, producing a clanking echo. Another ball sprang out and again, Ricky smacked it away. The process continued monotonously until the money ran out and the machine turned off with a mechanical grunt.

Ricky pulled off his blue batting helmet and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. His gaze fell upon the spot he'd been standing. The cement was worn from where so many people had stood before him. He tried to envision a little girl in the spot, feet spread out in a typical batting stance, with a pink helmet and soiled white tennis shoes. For a moment, he allowed himself to think of how it might be to take her by the hands, guide her arms back, and show her how to properly strike a ball.

"Hey! You done yet?"

Ricky looked to the left and found a man standing with two children, one girl and one boy, and a woman who reached over to punch him in the arm. He allowed himself to laugh at the man's mumbled protests.

"Don't mind us," she said. "My husband doesn't have any manners sometimes. Don't feel rushed on our account."

Ricky dug into his duffle bag and pulled out a white towel which he slung over his neck. "Don't worry about it, I'm out of quarters anyway." He pushed open the batting cage and lugged his bag and bat out. "Have at it!"

The children blew inside, followed by the man who'd asked about the cage to begin with, but the woman stopped and gave a cheerful nod. "Thanks."

"Have fun," Ricky nodded, his eyes on the kids as the man – their father, he guessed, but as he knew firsthand, it might not be what it seemed – began to illustrate the proper batting positions. He headed for the drinking fountain, which was empty, and bent over for a long cold sip. His lips had barely met the frigid stream when his duffle bag began to ring to the non-lyrical version of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." Grunting, he pushed off the fountain lever and dropped to a nearby bench. A few moments later he was digging around in his suck for his cell phone, knowing he had a text message from someone, but he wasn't sure who until he saw the name plastered across his phone: "Grace?"

_It's time!_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I thought the baby wasn't coming until after the school year was over?" Ben said as he sat next to Grace in the waiting room of the hospital.

The blonde nodded. "That's when the c-section was scheduled, but when she went in for her appointment today, they said she's fully dilated. I guess the baby has other ideas, huh?"

"Just like Adrian."

Grace and Ben turned their heads to see that Ricky had arrived. Grace moved a seat over so that she was sitting beside Ben and patted the spot she'd vacated, beckoning for the drummer.

"Thanks," Ricky said quietly as he took the seat.

"Where're your parents?"

"I haven't called them yet. Are you sure Adrian's having the baby this time? The last time-"

"She's in there right now refusing the epidural."

"_Refusing?"_ Ben asked in disbelief.

"She wants a hydro birth," Grace nodded. "Water is a natural pain reducer and it eases the transition from the womb to the world."

"Why didn't she tell us this before?"

"Well you can't have a water birth and a c-section at the same time," Grace said, rolling her large gray eyes. "She didn't think it was an option."

"So where do you have a water birth?" Ben asked.

"They have birthing pools here. They were constructed a couple years ago, didn't you hear about that?" At the confused looks on the boys faces, Grace shrugged. "Hydro birthing is much more looked down on here in the states than it is in other parts of the world, so not all places have birthing pool or birthing tub facilities. But my dad was part of an advocacy group – along with a lot of other medical professionals – who wanted to get them at the local hospital. It's one of the best ways to give birth, if you can. There are virtually no side effects."

"You sound like a talking billboard," Ricky announced.

"Only when I'm passionate about something."

"You're always passionate about something," Ricky smirked.

"Ben! I got here as soon as I could! How is she?"

Ben jumped up at the sound of his father's voice. "Her mother's in with her now," he said, noting how out of breath his dad looked and assumed he likely ran all the way from the parking lot. He smiled slightly at Camille, who was by his father's side. "Hey."

"Hi, Ben."

Ben turned awkwardly towards Ricky and Grace. "Uh, Camille, this is Grace and this is-"

"Ricky," the drummer said, offering his hand.

Camille nodded graciously. "Lovely to meet you both."

"This is Camille," Ben continued. "She works for my dad."

"With," Leo corrected, coughing before and after. He patted his chest. "I wouldn't be the successful man that I am today without her help, she's invaluable!"

Camille blushed. "Thank you, but he's exaggerating. It's called _Boykewich_ Butchers for a reason."

"Don't be so modest, you've been with us for almost as long as the company has been around."

Camille shook her head. "Leo, I think you should sit down, you look pretty haggard."

"I'm outta shape," he coughed. "Too much sausage and not enough exercise." He sat down in a chair against the wall.

"I'll go find you a water," Camille nodded.

Leo zeroed in on Ricky and nodded. "You just come from practice?" he asked, noting Ricky's baseball attire. "I didn't know you played."

"Not on a team, I just hit the batting cages every now and again."

Leo nodded. "Where're Margaret and Shakur?"

"I haven't called them yet."

Leo frowned. "They might be grandparents in just a little while, don't you think they'd like to know? I mean," he touched his chest, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but speaking as someone in their position, _I_ would like to know."

Ricky slunk a little deeper into his chair. "I guess you're right. I just wanted to be sure it wasn't another false alarm."

"Alarm, shmalarm. Better safe than sorry, I always say."

"I'll be right back," Ricky nodded and quickly excused himself from the waiting room.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Mom, I'm scared."

Cindy was on her knees beside the birth tub with her arm in the water up to her elbow as she held her daughter's hand. "It'll be alright, _Chica_."

"It hurts so bad last…what if something goes wrong?"

Cindy wet a strand of Adrian's hair and pressed it against her head. "Nothing will go wrong."

"You said when I was born, I was distressed."

Cindy nodded. "Your heart rate would fall when I tried to push, which is why they eventually had to do the c-section."

"What if that happens to me?"

"Then we'll deal with it."

Adrian suddenly gripped the side of the tub and screamed. The tip of one of her nails snapped from the pressure of the way she was grasping the tub and she yelped in surprise as the contraction drew to a close. "I feel like I'm being ripped apart by some archaic torture device!"

Cindy laughed in spite of herself. "Think about what you're saying, Adrian."

Adrian rubbed her broken nail against the pad of her thumb. She hated the way it felt: rough, jagged, and sharp against her skin. It looked awful too, so out of line with her nine other nails. "I should've done the epidural."

"You're too far in at this point, Ms. Lee," her doctor stated as she entered the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Is that rhetorical?"

Cindy patted her daughter's shoulder supportively. "It'll be over before you know it. We have a history of quick labors in our family," she winked.

The doctor bent over the tub and placed a cylindrical object against Adrian's belly. Something like a mix between a growling stomach and a tube expelling bubbles as it fills up with water came from the box that it was connected to via a long white wire.

"Is that the heartbeat?" Cindy asked.

The doctor nodded. "Shouldn't be much longer now. Adrian, how fast are the contractions coming?"

Adrian gripped her mother's arm instead of answering. She thought she could almost see a physical manifestation of the pain behind her eyelids. It was all consuming and there was hardly any time to think. She hadn't had a chance to go to the Lamaze classes because of the mandatory bed rest, but she'd tried to research them online. But even if she had spent the money, she had no idea how would've been able to remember what to do during the contractions anyway.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What are you two doing here?"

Alice folded her arms. "Why didn't you tell us Adrian was having the baby?"

Henry slightly ribbed her. "We stopped by the butcher shop when your shift was supposed to end and Bunny said you were here."

"Ben?" Alice prodded.

"Adrian doesn't want a fanfare. She just wanted it to be family."

"Camille's here," Alice noted, nodding her head in the direction of Camille and Leo, who were huddled in chairs against the wall, whispering to one another.

"She's practically family."

"And we aren't?" Henry asked, a little rebuffed. "We've known each other since third grade!"

"You know what I mean."

Alice pulled her coat out from under her arm and peeled it back from a neatly wrapped package which she shoved at Ben. "Here."

"What's this?"

"A baby gift."

"Alice, you didn't have to."

"It's from Henry and I, since there was never really an 'official' baby shower."

"Should I give it to Adrian or-"

"You can open it now."

Henry nodded. "Open it now."

Ben carefully pulled the bow off the package and picked off the pieces of tape, one by one. When he had one end picked off, he shook it gently, and a small box fell out. Curiously, he lifted the lid and found a sterling silver picture frame inside with the engraved words: _Loved since before you were born._

"What do you think?"

"I think Adrian'll love it."

"What do _you_ think?"

Ben tilted his head and then rushed at his friends, throwing an arm around each of them and pulling them into a giant hug. "I think I have the best friends in the world."

"You bet your ass you do!" Alice grinned, pushing Ben away. "And you'd do your best not to smother us."

"Sorry," Ben laughed, fondling the photo frame in his hands. "Maybe I should get out my camera instead of my camcorder?"

Henry reached into his back pocket and pulled out a digital camera, which he dangled from the wrist swatch in front of Ben's voice. "Alice made me bring it," he said cheekily.

On the other side of the room, Grace was actively engaged in conversation with Shakur, while Ricky and Margaret sat off to the side, watching quietly. Margaret breached the space between them to lay her hand on her son's, which was rested on the arm of a waiting room chair. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't think I've felt this unsure since they told me I was coming to live with you and Dad. It's like one of those dreams when you're trip and start falling. Everything inside me is racing just like that."

Margaret squeezed Ricky's hand. "I'll tell you a secret: when we found out you were coming to live with us, I felt the same way."

"But you had kids before me."

"But never ones with such a complicated history. We knew it was the right decision though. The choice to become someone's parent is one of the biggest a person can ever make."

Ricky suddenly stood up and everything else in the room – noise and sight alike – faded into the background. All he could see was Cindy, with her strand of black hair stuck at strange angles to her face from sweat and water. Like a soldier making his way into battle, he approached her from one side, while Ben did from the other.

"You can see her now, but only the two of you." She looked sympathetically towards Leo, Margaret, and Shakur. "I'm sorry."

Leo shook his head. "That's how it should be. Go on."

The boys followed Cindy down the hall to a room marked _Suite 101_. She twisted the handle and pushed the door aside. They entered simultaneously and it felt as if time had slowed when they saw her on the bed, like the last scene of _Titanic_, happening in slow motion.

Adrian's eyes were on the pink wrapped bundle in her arms. She looked up slowly, her face void of its usual makeup, but more gorgeous than at any other time either Ricky or Ben had ever seen her. She pushed her hair over her shoulder, finally revealing the tiny face hidden behind it. "Say hello, _Preciosista_…"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Have you heard from Ben yet?" Henry asked as they met up in the middle of the hallway, heading for their lockers.

Alice shook her head. "I've been checking my phone all morning," she said, reflexively pulling out said object and checking it again.

"Have you seen Ricky?" Henry asked, rotating his head around to check up and down the hallway.

"Nope."

"Grace."

"Nope."

"No, I mean, _Grace!_" Henry pointed down the hallway, where Grace was dressed in her cheerleading uniform and appeared to be talking with Madison and Lauren.

Alice narrowed her eyes. "You don't think she-"

"No…"

Alice grabbed Henry by the arm. "Let's go make sure!" she said, dragging him towards the cheerleader. As they reached her, Madison and Lauren quickly departed, stuck closer together, whispering between themselves. "Hey, Grace…"

Henry grunted as Alice elbowed his ribs. "What's up?" he peeped.

Grace shrugged, all rainbows and smiles. "You're wondering about the test results, aren't you?"

"Do you know something?" Alice asked eagerly.

Grace shrugged. "Nothing more than you, but I'm sure we'll know pretty soon after Adrian, Ben, and Ricky do."

Down the hallway, Amy stood between Lauren and Madison, who were gossiping around her as if she didn't exist. Her eyes flicked back and forth around the crowd, hoping to see Ben pop up by his locker or walk up the stairs, but she never did.

"I think she's lying about not knowing the results," Lauren whispered.

"She's a _Christian_," Madison replied.

"Christians still lie! Besides, she's Adrian's friend, she's probably tainted her by now."

Amy pushed her away between the two and continued absently moving through the throng of students. She stopped as she reached the band room, clutching her French Horn case to her side. She waited until the second bell rang and the hall was clear of students and then she lifted her French Horn case and stared at the handwriting. _The __song of songs: it belongs to you and me._ But the only thing she could hear was silence.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

In the parking lot outside the Lee apartment, Ricky sat in his car, his eyes fixated on the letter in his hands. It was addressed to _Richard Underwood_, from _GeneCo Laboratories_. With shaking hands, he pinched the metal wings on the yellow envelop and tore up the flap. The papers inside fell out when he turned it over and Ricky held his breath as he unfolded the paper. Speed reading was a specialty of his, so his eyes flew across the page until they reached the last few sentences, and then he slowed his pace, allowing his mind to process each word in its fullest and most vibrant clarity.

_GeneCo Laboratories has determined with 99.999999% accuracy that you are…_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Inside her bedroom, Adrian laid asleep in bed, and beside her, equally fast asleep, laid her daughter in the bassinet. The infant, merely two weeks old, already had a head of thick onyx hair and caramel crème skin, and lay dressed in a pink onesie, dotted with tiny pink, white, and purple flowers. Two soft knocks sounded from the door, but neither girl so much as twitched in their sleep.

The sound of the door knob turning filled the air, followed by carpet muffled footsteps that stopped beside the bassinet. A pair of hands slid beneath her and the baby stirred, her large brown eyes opening as she was lifted from her bed and cradled beside a warm chest. "Hello, Mercy. Daddy's here," Ben whispered. _"__Ti voglio bene."_


End file.
